A Tale of Two Slaves Part 3: Death
by empressmargaretta
Summary: Emperor Domitian's conquests to conquer all of Baria and Heartland seem unstoppable. The thee royal children of an already captured country- Nash, Marin, and Iris- are all enslaved and feel helpless to do anything about their fate. Unknown to them, a rebellion of powerful warriors is forming that just may be able to save the day. But will they be able to before it's too late?
1. Prologue

_In the dead of night, towards the end of the cold season, a ship was preparing to leave the port of Astrania and head east- to Heartland. A tall and imposing figure walked the deck of the ship, inspecting every last detail. Every person stopped what they were doing and bowed low as he approached, except for the one who stood by his side._

" _Everything is perfect, Heartland. I knew I could count on you."_

" _Thank you, my Lord." A smooth, oily voice replied. "It ought to be after all the time it has taken to prepare."_

" _Yes." Emperor Domitian nodded his approval. "And you are fully prepared for your mission?"_

 _Lord Heartland, a weasel of a man with spectacles and sickly shade of green in his hair, smiled back at him. "Absolutely. Do not fear, my Lord. Heartland will fall before you more easily than the United Lands did."_

" _Indeed." Domitian's lips twisted into a smirk as he remembered the look of shock and betrayal on his rival Ralphenom's face, just before he ran him through. The fool had actually thought they were friends. It would be even easier to slaughter the barbaric Heartland rulers. "I wish luck to you, Heartland, and eagerly await your return. As you know, I am leaving for Sparta in the morning."_

 _Lord Heartland nodded. "Yes, I am aware of it. But, is not tomorrow young Prince Vector's birthday?"_

 _Domitian scowled at the mention of his son. He could not have been more disgusted or disappointed with his heir. "Yes. His mother will undoubtedly try to get me to see him before I go- he's been sick in bed for the past few suns." He let out a huff of annoyance. Princes, especially those who would someday rule the greatest empire on earth, were not supposed to get sick. "But I am Emperor and she is only a woman. She has no authority over me."_

 _The fact that Empress Vivian had been chosen over him to be a member of the Imperial Council was one of the many reasons Domitian had hated Ralphenom, the Council's, and therefore Baria's, leader. But he had taken his revenge, Domitian smirked to himself. Ralphenom was dead, and his brat- the one who would have taken over his throne- was now Domitian's slave. And Domitian could do whatever he liked with him._

 _Cheered by this thought, Domitian left the ship wand watched as it sailed, excitement bubbling up inside him. His conquests were unstoppable. All would fall before him._

 _On board ship, Lord Heartland was thinking along the same lines. He would soon be second-in-command to the most powerful man in the world. Nothing could stop him now!_

 _There was just one thing the villains had overlooked. Ralphenom's son may have been their slave, but his daughters were not._

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **The aftermath of the attack on Sparta.**


	2. The Great Fighter

By the time Alito awoke, the sun was glaring at him, which meant it was now high noon, because the only way the sun could be reaching him through the canopy of trees meant in was directly overhead. Groaning, Alito shifted his position, trying to shield his eyes. His body throbbed from all the running he had done yesterday, and his throat was dry and scratched from the screaming. He wanted to lie there forever, until death came to take him like it had taken so many others. But Alito was anything if not stubborn, and his stubbornness far outweighed his aching feet. If he wasn't on his way soon, he would be caught by the invaders.

Grunting, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered on, ignoring his body's cry for food and water. As he walked, he tried to blot out his suffering, by trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the sun's last pass above. He could see everything clearly, because it would be forever burned in his memory.

" _Prince Philip! Prince Philip!" Alito and the Prince's sparing match was interrupted by the arrival of a panicked servant. "They are here, your highness! The Astranians. Your father has given orders for you to flee the city. I've been told to help you pack. The guards will be here soon to escort you out of the palace."_

" _Pack?" Alito asked._

" _Escort me where?" Prince Philip frowned. "Isn't the palace the safest place in Sparta?"_

" _No anymore." The woman was already stuffing clothes and coins into a knapsack. "Your father just received word that several towns have been attacked, and the enemy is rapidly making their way here, to the capital!"_

Not much else had needed to be said. Both Prince Philip and Alito knew that, in the time it had taken the messenger to get the news to Prince Agrippa, Emperor Domitian could have made it to the city gates. And he had. The guards arrived and insisted they take Prince Philip to the secret catacombs beneath the palace. They wouldn't take Alito, no matter how Philip begged them to.

" _It is alright, my friend," Alito had reassured him. "I'm a survivor. I'll be able to evade the enemy by myself more easily. One person is less noticeable than two. And I'll be sure that you are safe._

 _After Philip was gone, Alito had fled the palace by himself. He ran passed soldiers rushing towards the action and stumbled through servants fleeing the onslaught. Everyone carried a weapon of some sort, whether to push back the enemy or to defend themselves. Everyone except Alito, that is. He carried no sword, club, or knife, because he hadn't, didn't, and never would need one._

Alito had always been amazed at how he had become Prince Philip's personal playmate and sparring partner. His earliest memories were of his father, drunk and wasted, standing over him and shouting as he swung the leather strap. Beatings had been part of the boy's everyday life. Alito had never known his mother; she'd died when he was three. He father spent the next two rains buying and swallowing all the liquor he could. Eventually he'd lost his job because no one wanted a worthless drunk around. No one else would hire him, either. Alito had only stayed alive because the elderly women of the town had taken pity on him. Whenever his father was out drinking, they would come by and feed him and dress his wounds. They couldn't take him away from his old man, though. None of them had the money to support him all the time, or the courage to challenge his father. He'd never blamed them.

Of course, with no employment, there was no money to buy alcohol. Alito's father had sold most of what they'd had in the house, and then either bought more liquor or gambled it away in an attempt to make more money. Eventually he'd been so deep in debt that his benefactor had threatened to have him imprisoned. So, one night he had come home in a drunken stupor with a group of men who had examined Alito and put a price on him. His father had snatched it up without second thought. Alito didn't know what had become of the man, and he didn't care.

He'd been thrown into a wagon with a lot of other unfortunates and taken to Spartan City to be trained as a gladiator- someone to enter the arena and entertain the crowds. Alito, at age five, had been the youngest among them. But he had been far from the weakest. Quickly he had learned that heavy weapons weighed a person down and made them easier to knock off balance. He had developed a counter strategy while training, and it had served him well. It pleased the crowd to see a mere boy take down a full grown man with a powerful weapon with his bare hands. In the gladiator business, the more you pleased the crowd, the better your chances were.

By the time he was seven, Alito had been invited to the palace. Prince Agrippa's son, Prince Philip, had challenged him to a fight. It was then that Alito had done the unthinkable- he had defeated member of the royal family; the ruler's oldest son, no less! Surely his career was ruined now, the other gladiators and managers said. They would send him to the fields for this. In a land where fighters were praised, to be banished from the arena and reduced to a farmer was a disgrace. But Philip was excited that there was a boy his age who didn't have an aversion to him- a person he could really practice against. Alito had been brought back into the palace permanently as Prince Philip's companion, and he had been until last night. Now, Philip no longer had a kingdom to be Prince of.

 _Alito ran through the palace grounds, choking as thick smoke filled the air. The palace itself could not burn; it was made of concrete, but everything inside it could. The screams of trapped people as they jumped out the windows to escape the roaring flames echoed in his ears as he ran. Blood spattered across the courtyard. All he could do was keep running. Suddenly, he stopped short, staring at the scene around him. Bodies lay everywhere, and one of them was…_

" _Prince Agrippa?" Alito stared at the gaping eyes and mouth of his friend's father, blood seeping out of both. It was clear why; the dead ruler had been stabbed in the stomach. For a long moment, the black haried boy stood frozen to the spot, unable to make his feet move. Finally, survival instinct kicked in and he managed to put one foot in front of the other until he was running again, away from the horror behind him._

He'd run all night, through the city and out the gates. Finally, unable to go any further, he had collapsed here, in the untamed forest that separated most villages from each other. Emperor Domitian would undoubtedly be hunting down anyone who had escaped the capitol, to prevent news from reaching Widehan-yosae. Soldiers would flood the woods and guard the entrances to every town. Alito had to evade them. He had to get away.

He walked for what felt like an eternity. His aching muscles screamed at him to stop and rest, but he knew that if he if he did, they would cramp up and prevent him from getting anywhere. Alito was a fighter; not a runner. His escape had forced him to excessively use his un-practiced muscles, causing the soreness. Alito scowled at how out of shape he was. It didn't matter how strong his arms were; a gladiator was supposed to be strong in all aspects of his body, and in this he had failed.

The sun had sunk behind the trees by now, leaving him in dim light. He almost missed the stream, but fortune was with him. Thankfully he knelt by the water and drank deeply, quenching his thirst and finally ridding his throat of the devil's ash. Then he set about creating a camp for himself. He couldn't build a fire for fear of drawing attention to himself; he never wanted to see fire again anyway, but a river meant things grew around here, and there was a good chance some of them were edible. He found several different types of berries (only one of which was poisonous) as well as a root similar to a carrot. If only he could have fund some Soahk; that would have been helpful. Alito knew a lot about berries and plants because one of the women that had taken care of him in his home town had taught him about them, and he was very grateful for that now. He was also grateful for the work that kept his mind busy. He didn't need extra time to worry about whether or not Philip had escaped or how much danger he was in.

Alito wrapped himself up in his cloak and lay on the ground to sleep, thinking about what the future held. He would go north, to ty and warn the people of Widehan-yosae. He would have to be careful to leave no trail for the treacherous Astranians to follow. He would follow the direction of the side the moss grew on the trees; that would be north. He could walk in the stream whenever it went his way, if he was lucky. Of course, Alito did not need luck. Alito was a survival.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **The leaders of Widehan-yosae entrust the future of their kingdom to their bravest warriors in training, if the worst comes to the worst.**


	3. The Great Warrior

Girag walked purposely through the halls of Jabfusioa Training Camp. The camp was made from walls of stacked logs lashed together and had dirt floors, giving it a wonderful natural fragrance. Girag had always been at home here, but there was tightness in his shoulders this morning, and his back was unusually rigid. Riding on his shoulders, Ponta could feel the difference.

"What is the matter, Master?" The _kumiho_ asked.

"I don't know," Girag said. "Why do you think General Powhan wants to speak with me?"

"It can't be because you've done something wrong. Let's face it, Girag; you're the best student this training ground will ever have. You shouldn't be so worried." Ponta laid his ringed tail across Girag's other shoulder. A _kumiho,_ or shapeshifter, Ponta could become anything he could visualize, but at most times, he preferred to be in his natural form as a raccoon. Kumihos were almost extinct these days; it was unknown where they came from or why they had disappeared. Ponta himself didn't know. He had wandered the earth as a raccoon; unless he saw a situation that shapeshifting could fix or improve. Sometimes, he would change shape just to amuse himself, but he tried not to cause any harm by it.

One day, however, the town in which Ponta had been "living" (he wasn't exactly a resident in anyone's home) had been attacked by bandits. When the law enforcers had arrived, Girag had rescued him from under a pile of rubble. The young lieutenant had brought the raccoon back to Jabfusioa and nursed him back to health. At first, Ponta had kept his ability to understand human speech, not to mention his identity as a Kumiho, a secret, but he had decided that he liked Girag. The trainee was fierce in battle, but he had a compassionate heart. Ponta could see it, not only in the way he cared for him, but also in the boy's caring for anyone in need.

So, when Girag had gone on a dangerous mission, Ponta had followed him, determined to help. At a dire moment, he had taken Girag's strength, giving him an advantage over the enemy. Now, other than his raccoon shape, Girag was the form he took most often. The two were almost identical, except for the giveaway red nose and whiskers that the kumiho Girag wore. Ponta had been Girag's partner for a while now, and if he had been called before the General who oversaw Jabfusioa for a disciplinary reason, he was sure it would be a mistake of some sort.

They reached the door to General Powhan's meeting room. Girag took a deep breath before entering. He had gone over everything he'd done in the past three moons and couldn't think of any rule he'd broken that was so severe the General wanted to speak with him directly, but he was nervous anyway. When he was ready, he knocked.

"Come in!" General Powhan's voice was soft, but commanding. Girag pushed open the large wood door and entered, bowing at the waist in respect to his superior.

"You asked for me, General?" he asked.

"Yes, Kiraku, I did." The General said, addressing him with his formal name. "And it is of no small matter that I need to speak with you about today." Girag straightened. He was close to a nervous breakdown, but all his troubles were suddenly forgotten when he saw the other figure in the room.

"General Hamatu!" He gasped, quickly bowing once again. Why would the most powerful man in Widehan-yosae want to speak with him?

"Kiraku," General Hamatu said, rising from his seat. "I have heard a lot about you from Powhan."

"Y-you have?" Girag asked, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"Yes, he has," Powhan said. "And there is no reason to be nervous, Kiraku. They were all good things I told him. We have called you here today to give you an offer."

"An offer?"

"Yes. I'll be honest with you, Kiraku," General Hamatu said. "You do not have to accept. Accepting could put you in greater danger than you could ever imagine." Girag stared at him. What was he talking about?

"Sit down, Kiraku," Powhan said, gesturing to a chair opposite from his and Hamatu's.

After Girag was seated, General Hamatu began, "As you know, Astrania betrayed the Treaty of the Seven Emperors when he attacked the home of our leader, Ralphenom." Girag nodded. Everyone in Baria knew of Domitian's treachery by now. "I went to a meeting in Drachelm shortly after that attack, and we made plans to protect ourselves from the Astranians in the case of another attack. However, Domitian didn't give us the time to fully prepare. Drachelm fell soon after the United Lands, and we have reason to believe that Sparta has also fallen victim to his rampage."

"Sparta?" Girag was stunned. Astranian attacks had seemed so far away when there was talk of Drachelm falling, but Sparta? Sparta was their neighbor to the south. Domitian and his army weren't far away any more.

"Yes." Powhan unrolled a map that was sitting on his desk. It was a map of Baria, with some of the countries in green and some in red. "The red countries have already fallen to Domitian," he said. Girag felt sick as he looked at his own country. It was hemmed in by red Sparta and water on all sides, except for the west, where the Tachyon Mountains were.

"What does all this have to do with me?' Girag asked.

"We are putting the future of Widehan-yosae in the hands of our young warriors," Hamatu said. "Kiraku, we have seen your test results. You are the best warrior in training we have in the system."

"What?!" Girag was startled. He knew he had good ratings, but the best? He had never imagined he had reached such heights.

"Yes. We want you to be the leader of the future army of Widehan-yosae. You will know all of our most carefully guarded military secrets. Should anything happen to the Generals that are leading Widehan-yosae now, you will be its new leader."

"Me?! Lead Widehan-yosae? I can't!"

"I know it's a lot to ask, but we have no guarantee of how the battle with Astrania will end, or if there will even be a battle. We are sending our best trainees out of the cities, into the woods, and, if the worst comes to the worst, to the Tachyon Mountains. You must utilize all your training if you accept this mission, Kiraku. After Domitian thinks he's won, you must find a way to push him out. Please, Kiraku, unless you decide to do this, our people may end up as slaves to the Astranians and be swallowed up by history."

"There is another reason we chose you, Kiraku," Powhan interjected. "We believe you will be able to handle the challenge we are putting to you because of your…connection with the realm of the supernatural." Everyone's gaze drifted to Ponta.

"Why are you all looking at me?" The Kumiho asked.

"You are a creature of mysterious abilities, Ponta. We don't know for sure, but perhaps you have bonded with Kiraku at this time to help save us from Domitian."

Ponta thought this over. "Maybe," he said.

"What are you saying, Ponta?' Girag asked. "I can't lead a country!"

"How do you know? Have you ever tried?" Ponta asked.

"We don't want to force you, Kiraku," Powhan said. "But you're our best chance."

Girag sat silently for a long time, thinking everything through. He knew that accepting the assignment would be tough and dangerous, but what would happen to his people if he didn't accept? Girag was an orphan; he'd never known his parents. The people in the village he was born in had brought him to the military to be raised and trained. Girag had spent his entire life preparing for a life as a solider. Having lived without a family, he knew what it was like to be lonely. How many people would lose their families and friends and end up as lonely as he had been?

Taking a deep breath, the soon to be General Kiraku said, "Tell me what I need to know."

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two of Two Slaves**_ **: Rio and Iris lay eyes on the land of Tenjo.**


	4. The Truth is Revealed

"Oh, Quattro; you were right, it _is_ beautiful!" Rio exclaimed, looking down at the fjords of Tenjo from a high palace window. The fjords were deep waterways that cut into the rocky cliffs that made up the coast of Tenjo. The interior was made of mountains and valleys, making Tenjo the rockiest of all Heartlandish countries. For weeks now, the Arclight royal family had been preparing for a summer vacation in Tenjo. Because the Tenjo royal family had ended up stranded in Arclight for the better part of six months, they had decided to extend an invitation to the royal family to stay in their kingdom for the summer, to make it up to them.

Quattro had been excited to show Rio the fjords, because he knew how much she liked natural beauty. Therefore it was more than just a little annoying that Kite had taken over in giving them a tour of his palace. Sure, Kite knew more about the place than Quattro was- the last time he had been here was before Rio had arrived two summers ago- but that didn't mean he should but in the way he had. Now, though, Quattro smiled. Rio was happy with something he had given her. Sort of.

Quattro couldn't explain it, but recently he had been trying especially hard to please Rio. That morning, when they had arrived, Kite had shown her the rooms where she and Iris would be staying. The rooms were far more luxurious than the servants' quarters where the sisters lived in Arclight. Rio had thanked Kite quite graciously for the rooms in the guest wings of the palace. Quattro couldn't stand watching that arrogant pest getting so much attention from his best friend, and so had volunteered to talk to his father about moving her and Iris into nicer rooms back home.

"After all," he'd reasoned. "You're like family now." And it was true. Rio and Iris had helped ease the pain of the separation from Quinton. Rio was like a mother to Trey, who had never known his real one. Both of them were like daughters to Byron, and Iris was like a sister to the boys. Quattro couldn't see Rio as his sister. Every time he tried to imagine it, he felt uncomfortable. He wanted Rio to be _more_ than that.

King Byron had noticed his son's increasing feelings for the Barian slave girl, but he had waved them off. Thomas was young and Rio was the girl he came into contact most. It was natural that he would have a crush on her. It would wear off with time. Besides, she didn't seem to have similar feelings for him.

Kite, too, had realized that Rio was on his thoughts frequently. Whenever the idea of his having feelings for her had arisen, though, he had pushed it back down. He was a Prince, and she was a slave. He was a Heartlander, and she was a Barian. A member of the race that had attacked his people for generations, taken his mother from him, and crippled his little brother. He didn't blame Rio; but he couldn't be linked to her in such a way.

Hart, however, did not bother considering such factors. "My brother likes your sister," he said to Iris as they sat in the garden.

"What?" Iris was startled. She was excited to play a game of checkers with Hart, a Barian game similar to the Heartlandish chess, and so had quickly gone with him after their arrival and introductions. They were now sitting by a fountain in the palace garden, not as elaborate as the Arclightian one, but still very nice. Hart had explained to her that they could only use the garden in the summer, because in the mountains temperatures were cool most of the year, and sitting outside wasn't very comfortable.

"You came at just the right time," he'd said.

But Iris wanted to know what Hart had meant by saying his brother liked Rio. "What do you mean, _likes her_?" She demanded. Orbital sighed in enjoyment, oblivious to the tone the girl's voice had taken. He was lying on the ground next to her, and her hands had been immersed in his thick fur, stroking him continuously since the checker game had begun.

"I mean she's the only girl to ever gain his respect, so he's infatuated with her," Hart said, making several jumps. Iris scowled.

"Gained his respect?" She echoed. "Yeah. When your sister confronted Kite and yelled at him for yelling at you, he gained a lot of respect for her. No one- especially not a slave or a girl- has ever dared to speak to him that way. Of course, he won't admit it to himself."

"Oh." Iris was quiet for a moment, thinking this over.

"It's your turn," Hart reminded her. She made a move which he easily countered, and after his next turn, he'd won. "Come on, Iris. You're usually better than that," he chided her.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About Rio. If Kite really likes her… well, I thought Quattro liked her."

"Yeah? Well, maybe they'll end up have a duel to the death for the beautiful maiden."

"Hart! Couldn't that start a war?"

"I was kidding, Iris," Hart smiled. "Besides, neither of them can really have her, anyway."

Iris nodded slowly. "You're right." _In more ways than you think. Rio is a Barian Princess. She can't be yoked to Heartlandish princes._

"How about another game?" Hart asked. "And this time, you have to focus."

"Okay," she agreed.

"And this is the grand hall," Kite said swinging open the double doors to reveal a large room, the floor covered with a plush rug and the walls made of decorative panels. At the end of the hall was a staircase, made completely of marble.

"Is that a crystal chandelier?" Rio asked, gazing up in awe.

"It is," Kite said proudly.

"We have crystal chandeliers, too," Quattro said hotly.

"I know," Rio told him. "But none of them are that big!"

Kite smirked slightly. "The mountains are filled with caves where crystals form naturally. We can afford larger and more things made of crystal than they can in Arclight, where they have to import it.

He went on about the economy of his country as they walked through the hall, admiring other pieces of finery, when Rio stopped in front of a portrait of a woman with golden eyes and long, green hair. "Who is this woman, Kite? She looks familiar somehow."

There was an awkward silence until Quattro said, "That's Kite's mother, Lady Tenjo."

"Oh." Rio turned red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Kite said stiffly. "My mother was the daughter and only child of the previous Lord of Tenjo. My father was just the royal consort until-" He stopped, the rest of his sentence going unsaid.

"Oh!" Rio said. "That's why your father is Lord Faker, instead of Lord Tenjo." Rio said.

Kite nodded. "Let's continue the tour," he said abruptly after another moment of awkward silence.

That night, as Rio tucked Iris into her luxurious guest bed, the smaller girl said, "Tell me something about our brother."

"Well," Rio began, sitting beside her on the bed. "It was incredibly easy to tease him; he got agitated quickly. But it would vanish in an instant if it came to protecting me- and you, too." She thought for a moment. "Let me tell you about a time he saved me even though it had happened because I had been teasing him mercilessly. Once, father gave him a new sword he's had especially made for him, and I was very jealous. As a girl, I didn't necessarily need weapons, but it didn't seem fair…

" _Give it back, Marin! That's a special sword Dad gave me!"_

 _Princess Marin stopped running and turned around to face her brother. "No way! It's not fair that only you get to have one, Nash!" She stuck her tongue out at him before sprinting away, laughing._

" _Give it back!" Nash demanded, chasing after her. They ran around and around, until Nash finally managed to catch hold of the sword's hilt and yank at it. The two engaged in a tug-of-war, until they suddenly both lost their grip and the sword went flying. Thrown off balance, Marin struggled to regain her footing, but crashed into the wall, dislodging a spear that hung there._

 _The Princess stood, petrified, as the huge weapon descended on her. "Marin!" Nash cried, seeing the danger she was in. "Look out!" He pushed her out of the way, and as she fell to the floor, she heard a cry of pain and a clatter._

 _The little girl's sobs called the Emperor and Empress to their aid. "Nash!" Emperor Ralphenom knelt next to his only son. There was a deep gash in Nash's shoulder where the spear had dropped on top of him._

" _Mama!" Marin ran to her mother, the guilt of what had happened causing a fresh burst of tears._

" _Oh, there, there, sweet girl, don't cry. It's alright."_

" _Don't be mad," Nash said, "But I think I may have damaged the sword you gave me, or that special spear. I'm sorry."_

" _Nash! You are my son, far more important than any sword or spear. Of course I'm not angry."_

" _Dear," Empress Toria said gently, "We need to take care of that cut."_

Rio swallowed a sob as she finished the story, turning away so Iris wouldn't see her tears. "He sounds like a really nice person," the greenette said.

Rio was startled. "Sounds like? Iris, don't you remember him?"

Iris shrugged. "I only have vague images."

"Oh," Rio said. _It's true; Iris was only four when we last saw Nash. I suppose it's natural that she can't really remember him._ "Well, get some sleep. I'll tell you more about him tomorrow."

The older girl quickly got into her own night dress and snuggled down under her covers. It was the most luxurious bed she'd slept in since becoming a slave. _Wherever you are, Nash, I hope you haven't forgotten us._

The next few days passed quickly. Iris spent time with Trey and Hart, playing all sorts of games, while Rio spent time with Kite and Quattro, drinking up as much knowledge as she could. She had discovered that an active brain was just as necessary for staying sane in this situation as active hands were. She had mastered the Heartlandish alphabet, and while Quattro continued to teach her Arclightian, Kite began her instruction in Tenjo. Every night, Rio would tell Iris more about Nash, whether it was a fact or a story, trying to paint a picture of him for Iris's young mind. Little did Rio know that she was the one about to get a clearer picture.

One morning, Rio went to find Quattro and Kite in a heated argument. The two of them had been arguing quite a lot recently, mostly over her. Though she scolded them for it, she was secretly pleased that they both wanted to impress. As she approached, the two princes fell silent.

"Good morning, boys. What's the problem now?"

"Well," Kite began, "There's an important meeting today. King Byron, Thomas, and Michael will be able to attend, since this matter concerns them also, but you…" He trailed off.

"That's alright," Rio said, "Iris and I can entertain ourselves until the meeting is over."

"But that's just it!" Quattro exclaimed. "You shouldn't have to! This matter concerns you too. It's about… your home."

"Thomas!" Kite hissed. "It's not going to be the type of thing she wants to hear!"

"So? She should still be able to come if she wants to."

Rio thought it over. She didn't want to hear a bunch of powerful Heartlanders condemn her people, but it had been so long since she had heard anything from her homeland. "I will go," She said decisively. "Don't worry, Kite. I will remain silent until the meeting is over."

"Oh, alright," Kite said grudgingly. "Follow me." They followed him through stone corridors to the throne room, one of the few places Rio hadn't been yet. She noticed that Quattro was being silently smug. Then, they entered the room, Kite indicated a chair where she could sit, she looked around the room to see who else was in attendance, and her entire world flipped upside down.

 _Heartland!_ Rio felt dizzy and nauseous. What was he doing here? Was she about to find out who was responsible for attacking her homeland? Had Heartland, the man who had said he came to negotiate peace with her father, actually been sent there to spy? Was this why Kite had been reluctant to let her come? She was so stunned that it wasn't until Heartland's gaze landed on her that she realized she was staring at him. For one brief moment, his eyes widened in recognition, and then the look vanished, and they both broke their gazes.

Rio heart was pounding. What could Heartland's presence here mean? Did he know what had happened to Nash? She forced herself to take deep breaths and calm herself as the meeting began.

"We have gathered here today," Lord Faker began, "Because of the curious case of this man sitting here next to me," he said, gesturing to Heartland. "Please, Mr. Heartland. Tell the council your story."

"Thank you, my Lord," Heartland said, bowing his head respectfully. "Your generosity has been most gratifying." He raised his head and scanned the room, and once again his gaze landed on the enslaved Barian Princess, and she could have sworn he smirked at her. "When I was a little boy," Heartland began, "I was captured in a raid by the Barian heathens. I was sold into slavery in their cursed land, where I refused to give my real name, and I have been passed from master to master until just a few moons- I'm sorry, months- ago, when I managed to escape. I made it here, but I passed out on the rocky shore of Tenjo from dehydration and starvation. My limited amount of supplies had run out long before. Luckily, some of Lord Faker's loyal guards found me and brought me here, where I have been treated better than I can remember."

Rio realized she was clenching her fists and forced herself to relax them. _Liar!_ She thought. _He told us that he was there to negotiate peace with Heartland! Now he's telling Lord Faker a completely different story! What's his game?_

It was about to get a whole lot worse. "Mr. Heartland, tell us what you told me at our first meeting." Lord Faker looked as though he was dreading something.

"Oh, of course." Heartland cleared his throat. "My last master was Emperor Ralphenom of the United Lands of the Pacific Ocean- the leader of the entire Barian Empire. He was making plans to take over all of Heartland. I was never around to hear many details, but I knew I had to escape soon, to come and warn my homeland." There were murmurs and gasps throughout the room.

"Thank you, Lord Heartland," Lord Faker said. Rio saw red. Without thinking she jumped up from her seat and fled the room, causing more than one startled cries from the council.

"I told her she shouldn't have come," Kite muttered.

Rio avoided seeing anybody for the rest of the day. It seemed as though Heartland was singlehandedly trying to bring her father's, or rather, her brother's, kingdom to the ground. But hadn't he already succeeded? What was the point of spreading lies about her father? Who was Heartland working with? Where had those soldiers that had attacked the United Lands come from? Rio closed her eyes, trying to remember the details of that horrible night. She tried to recall what the enemy had looked like, what they had sounded like, but to no avail. The only part of the attack she could remember clearly was Nash saying goodbye.

"Well, well, Princess Marin. I never thought I'd see you again." Rio whirled around, coming face to face with her adversary.

"You! Why are you spreading lies about my father? Who are you working for?"

"Well, Princess, the answer to your first question is a secret, but I am working for Emperor Domitian of Astrania."

 _Astrania!_ Suddenly, everything was clear to Marin. The soldier's accents had been Astranian. They had been speaking Astranian, wearing Astranian dress. It was so strikingly obvious to her now, that she wondered why she had had to be told to realize the truth. "Then…it wasn't Heartland who attacked my home at all! It was Astrania! And you were sent there to spy us out! To make my father let his guard down!"

Heartland smirked. "Precisely."

"And you're here to do the same thing to the Heartlanders! Well, I won't let you! I'm going to tell them exactly what you are."

"Ah, but Princess, if you do that, I will tell them that you are Ralphenom's daughter. Now, perhaps some people you have made friends with will believe you, but most of the people will trust the escaped slave over the Barain Princess." He leaned against the wall, looking more sleazy than any creep Rio had ever seen while in the market. "And besides, if you betray me, what will happen to your brother?"

Rio froze. "What do you know about Nash?"

"Nash. I had almost forgotten his real name. You see, Domitian, at my suggestion, has renamed him Shark."

"That's what the village children used to call him."

"Yes. But some Shark he turned out to be. When Domitian's soldiers caught him and dragged him back, he decided to make his enemy Ralphenom's son his personal slave. So you see, all I have to do is get word to Domitian- which I can do more easily than you could imagine- and your brother might get hurt. It is in your best interest to keep your mouth shut." With that, Heartland turned and walked off, chuckling to himself.

Rio stood frozen to the spot. Her beloved brother, a slave like her? What was she going to do now?

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves**_ **: Shark and Vector are becoming good friends.**


	5. Tutors and Translators

A boy, at the age of ten, stood at the window and stared out at the pouring rain. It was early morning, but he knew the field slaves would already have been hard at work for several passes of the sun. This was the rainy season, and they needed to make sure none of the young crops were washed away in the torrent. Losing crops would mean severe punishment for all of them. The boy, a slim youth with pale skin, purple hair, and deep blue eyes, had lived in the fields for one full passing of the seasons, and he knew the hardships those trapped there faced. Of course, one wouldn't have known it, looking at him now. He was dressed in fine linens, his hair was clean and combed- there wasn't a single thing about him that said "field slave." In fact, the only thing that marked him as a piece of property was the fact that his trousers stopped at his shins, instead of all the way down to the ankle.

Shark, as he had been dubbed almost exactly two rains before, still wasn't used to the finery that came with being the crown prince's personal slave. When he had first arrived, back during the cold season, he had often slipped out of his simple, but soft, cot to sleep on the floor, because he was so used to a hard surface underneath him while he slept. Also, like today, he always awoke at dawn, or even before, rather than mid-morning, like his master and fellow slave, Kiilee, did. During these early passes of the sun, Shark would often sit down and read from his master's extensive collection. There were manuscripts in Astranian, the native language here, Salkie, Shark's own language, Dracht, the language of Drachelm, and of course, the trading language of Barian. Of course, most slaves couldn't even read and write in their own language, much less several. But Shark was different. His most carefully guarded secret was that he was Crown Prince Nash of the United Lands of the Pacific Ocean.

Since being captured and enslaved, he hadn't told anyone of his royal background, not even his friends Marya and Weasel, who still worked in the fields, one as a slave and the other as a guard. Shark hoped that they were safe, especially Marya. As a girl, she was in considerable danger of being molested, as her older sister had been. True, she was only ten, but it wouldn't be long before she started developing into a woman. Would she be able to hide it? Find a way to keep cutting her hair before it revealed her feminism? Shark sighed, wishing he could be there to protect her. He knew a bit about such things because he had a little sister- two of them, actually- and they had begun talking about things like womanhood just before… Well, there was no point in dwelling on the torment of the past.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Shark turned to the wall of books next to him. Thinking of his sister, he selected _Aya Prinsess Arusada,_ The Princess Bride. He and his twin had loved this book from an early age. His master, Prince Vector, also enjoyed it. It was written in Salkie, so Vector couldn't read it himself, but he'd already had Shark read it to him several times. They were in the middle of it for the fifth time currently. Shark flipped to his favorite part of the book, where Inigo, Fezzik, and Westley were storming the castle…

 _Yellin, from his position by the gate, was reasonably upset at the roaring giant gliding down toward them through the darkness. Not that he doubted his hundred men could dispatch the giant; the upsetting thing was that, of course, the giant would be aware of that too, and logically there must somewhere in the dimness out there be any number of giant helpers. Other pirates, anything. Who could tell? Still, his men held together remarkably staunchly._

 _It was only when the giant got halfway down the incline that he suddenly, happily, burst into flame and continued his trip saying, "NO SURVIVORS! NO SURVIVORS!" In a manner that could only indicate deadly sincerity._

 _It was seeing him happily burning and advancing that started the Brute Squad to screaming. And once that happened, why, everybody panicked and ran…_

Prince Vector awoke, as usual, to the sound of Kiilee moving around, finishing her own breakfast and fixing his. "Good morning, Kiilee," he said, sitting up and stretching.

"Good morning, Lord Vector," the green-haired woman returned. Vector looked around and quickly spotted Shark, the only friend he had that was a boy his own age, in the corner with a book.

"Morning, Shark!" Vector greeted him. There was no answer. "Shark? Earth to Shark!"

From within the story of Buttercup and Westley, Shark heard someone calling him. "What?" he asked, suddenly looking up and being brought back to the real world with a start. His master, Crown Prince Vector, was awake and watching him.

"I just wanted to know if you'd have breakfast," The carrot-head said. "What were you reading? You looked pretty involved."

"Yeah," Shark nodded, "I did. The Princess Bride." He held it up so the younger boy could see.

"Ugh. You're so lucky you can actually read it for yourself." Vector scowled briefly before brightening again. "Can we read some more today? Fezzik and the man in black were about to face off on the cliffs of insanity."

"Sure. Whatever you want." Shark was grateful for Vector treating him like his opinions and thoughts mattered. As his master, he could have simply have ordered him to do what he wanted. But he never did.

Vector quickly ate and dressed himself while Kiilee made his bed. Shark, even though he was Vector's personal slave, wasn't required to do all that much. Then it was time for Vector's lessons. Kiilee and Shark always made themselves scarce when the royal tutors were around. Their training was of poor quality, and like most Astranians in the palace, they enjoyed ordering those who were beneath them around. From what Shark knew, these teachers were Vector's mother, Empress Vivian's, idea. His father, Emperor Domitian, believed that a Crown Prince should be able to read, write, and do basic math, but that was it. Domitian would have preferred his son out practicing sword-fighting, but Vector hated fighting of any sort. He always said he would rather be curled up with a good book about a fantastic sword fight, like the one between Inigo and Westley, than have to engage in one. That was why he had salvaged so many of the books stolen from the countries his father had invaded and conquered. Of course, because he could only read Astranian and Barian, the Dracht and Salkie ones were of now use to him.

Shark, on the other hand, had been taught all four languages from an early age. His father, the late Emperor Ralphenom, had believed in the value of education. Because he was able to, Shark would often retreat to the alcove in which he slept with a couple of books in different languages to read while Vector learned from his tutors. He had discovered that he was a bit rusty with Dracht, and so was practicing to keep his mind sharp.

Kiilee always had embroidery of some sort to do, a clear sign that she was Heartlandish. No Barian woman would have bothered stitching endless little stiches in different colored thread to create a picture that could be created just as easily with stencils and natural dyes.

The mornings dragged on as Vector went over his lessons. Then, finally, Shark was able to get up and stretch when Vector went to eat lunch with his mother and have fencing practice. He and Kiilee ate a simple lunch of bread, water, and sometimes cheese or fruit, in the kitchen with other slaves. Vector always complained about practicing his sword fighting, but Shark wished he could hold such a weapon again. Shark wasn't just the name Domitian and Heartland had given him to mock him- it was a nickname the children of his homeland had given him because of his reputation with a sword. Both he and his sister had been instructed, but the teachers had always remarked over Nash's exceptional skill. He hadn't held a sword since he had been enslaved. Just one more thing that Domitian had taken from him.

Shark enjoyed reading _The Princess Bride_ to Vector, not only because it was a great story, but because he liked the challenge of having to read one language, translate it mentally, and then speak it out loud. He had read the book to Vector in both Astranian and Barian, just for the fun of it. Lately, he had been practicing switching back and forth, to increase his fluency. It benefited Vector as well, by improving his understanding of both languages.

That afternoon, he started with Astranian, reading the part about Fezzik observing Inigo's defeat and preparing to battle the mysterious man in Black….

" _See?" Fezzik pointed then. Far down, at the very bottom of the mountain path, the man in black could be seen running. "Inigo is beaten."_

" _Inconceivable! exploded the Sicilian._

 _Fezzik never dared disagree with the hunchback. "I'm so stupid," Fezzik nodded. "Inigo has not lost to the man in black, he has_ defeated _him. And to prove it he has put on all the man in black's clothes and masks and hoods and boots and gained eighty pounds."_

Vector laughed. "I love that line," he said. Shark continued on, reading about Fezzik's fight with the man in black. The fight was intense, and even though he knew what was coming, Vector bounced in his seat in anticipation. Shark finished the fight, leaving one combatant unconscious and the other heading off to find Vizzini, before closing the book, marking his place with one of the fancy embroidered bookmarks Kiilee had made.

Vector frowned at him. "What are you doing, Shark? We still have all afternoon to read. We could get all the way through the fire swamp."

"I know," Shark said, "But I have an idea. You know what you were saying this morning, about my being able to read the book myself, because it's in my language?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Well, I was thinking that I could translate _The Princess Bride_ into Astranian so you could read it."

Vector's face lit up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure. And not only _The Princess Bride_. I could translate all the Dracht and Salkie books you have," Shark was getting warmed up now. "In fact, I could even translate them into Heartlandish for Kiilee."

"You can speak Heartlandish?" Kiilee asked him, using the language to test him."

"I sure can," Shark answered in the same tongue.

"Wow! You guys are so lucky you know multiple languages," Vector sighed. "Dad says an Emperor shouldn't bother with too much learning."

"There is no such thing as too much learning," Kiilee said firmly.

"She's right," Shark agreed. "I can only write Heartlandish using Barian symbols. Kiilee, could you teach me your alphabet?"

"Of course," the greenette smiled. "I am glad, Shark, that you are open to learning." Her eyes clouded. "Too many Barians and Heartlanders are prejudiced against each other."

"You know what," Shark said, "We should all try to become fluent in all the languages we know between us. We're all fluent in Barian and Astranian. Kiilee and I can teach you Heartlandish, Vector, and she can teach us their alphabet." He turned to Kiilee. "Do you know any other Heartlandish languages?"

"Oh yes," she nodded, "I know Tenjonian and Arclightian, but my Tsukamonian's a bit rusty."

"This is so cool!" Vector exclaimed. "Learning all these languages is going to be so much more interesting than dissecting sentences with Moordiliin." He made a face.

"About that," Shark spoke up, "I'd be glad to teach you math and science stuff, too. I've noticed you struggle with it."

"You know math and science?" Vector and Kiilee asked him at the same time.

"Uh, yeah," Shark shifted uncomfortably, mentally scolding himself for being so bold, but he _needed_ to exercise his brain.

"That'd be awesome," Vector said, getting over his surprise. "You're right; I do struggle with math and science. Mom says they're necessary, but I'd rather study literature. And if you guys can teach me all those languages, I'd be able to read even more." He was quiet for a moment. "I wish I was smart like you guys. There's nothing I can teach you."

"Actually, there is." Shark said. "It's been a long time since I've held a sword. I'd enjoy going over basic moves with you."

Vector considered this. "I don't really like sword fighting," he said at last, "But I've never practiced with a friend. Sure, let's do it. Besides, if you can make me better in math and science, I'll owe you big time." He sighed. "Dad's not going to like me learning things from a slave."

"You're father doesn't need to know," Kiilee said, her eyes glinting mischievously. Vector almost fell off his chair.

"Wow, Kiilee, I never know you had it in you." Shark grinned at her. The Heartlandish woman was usually quiet and reserved.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, boys," Kiilee said. "A lot of things."

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves**_ **: Two friends meet up on the road to safety.** HeartlandsHearH


	6. A Racoon and His Double

"Well, Ponta?" Girag asked from where he was propped up against a tree, sharpening the point of a stick with his knife.

"It's safe." The raccoon came out of the now professed clean stream he had been investigating and shook off the water from his coat. Girag quickly shielded himself from the wet onslaught.

"That's good news," he said. "Our water supply is about to run out." Girag and Ponta had been on the road for six suns, carrying only what they could bear themselves. Of course, since Ponta could shape shift into Girag, who was solidly built to begin with, they could carry quite a lot. Besides their survival supplies, Girag also carried the most important military papers from Widehan-yosae. They were sewn inside his clothes, and his orders were to memorize and then destroy them. So far, he had about one third memorized, and tonight he would work on some more, then destroy the written versions.

Girag had been trained in tracking- and in avoiding being tracked. Every morning, he and Ponta rose early and scattered the ashes of their campfire, scraped away any footprints, and checked to make sure they'd left no marks of ever being there. Girag had no way of knowing when the Astranians were coming, but he wasn't going to leave them an invitation to follow him, not with all the military information he had. Even if he burned all the papers, he knew the Astranians were not above torturing people for information. For that reason, he hadn't allowed Ponta to look at any of the papers. His friend would safer the less he knew.

Apparently, there was someone in these woods who didn't share Girag and Ponta's apprehension of the enemy, because they had left quite an obvious trail. The two Widehan-yosaens had found impressions where this person had slept, broken branches, trampled leaves- it was ridiculous. Girag had covered up as many of the signs as he could, assuming that the person was a fugitive like himself. Now that he and Ponta had found this stream, which was very clean according to Ponta's professional opinion, Girag expected to cross paths with this other traveler very soon. Everyone needed clean water to survive. Of course, there was also the chance that there was more than one other person in these woods, and that he, or she, was an enemy. For this reason, Girag had started collecting long, slim twigs and sticks he found and sharpening their points. The makeshift weapons would serve well as spears and arrows; all he had needed was a curved piece of wood and a strong vine to make a bow. Whoever else was in these woods, Girag would be ready for them.

After he and Ponta had filled their water containers, they set about making a fire- a small one- and eating their meager dinner of berries and roots. "The stream is too shallow here," Ponta said around a mouthful, "But hopefully it will get deeper along the way and we'll have some fresh fish to eat by tonight."

Girag nodded his agreement. "Fish would be a nice change. Besides, if we walk in the stream, we'll be that much harder to track." So, the next morning, after they had gone through their routine of removing any evidence that they'd been there, Girag and Ponta set off through the stream. It only came up to Girag's shins, and his boots were water-tight, so it hardly affected him- at first. They splashed along all morning, the stream slowly getting deeper until it was almost at Girag's hips. By that time, there were lots of fish visible in the clear water. Ponta was about to suggest stopping for lunch when he caught a whiff of something all too familiar, and his body went rigid. Girag sensed his partner's uneasiness immediately.

"What is it?" He asked in concern.

"Blood," Ponta whispered. "I smell blood."

Girag's heart began to pound. "How far ahead?"

"I'm not sure. Close." Girag nodded and then slowly began moving again. It wasn't hard to find the source of the scent. Half in the stream, half on the bank, an olive-skinned boy with curly black hair lay on his back, a pool of blood underneath his head. Girag quickly splashed to the boy's aid, pulling him fully onto the bank.

"Hello?" he called to him. "Can you hear me?" There was no response. "We need to get him out of these wet clothes before he catches a chill," Girag said. "Get out some bandages and warm clothes." Ponta quickly removed the pack from his shoulders and began taking out supplies. Together they set about taking care of the injured boy. They dressed him in Girag's spare clothes, which basically swallowed him up since he was so much smaller than the warrior-in-training. Girag carefully wrapped bandages around the boy's head, doing his best to clean the dirt and dried blood out of the curly locks. "Watch him, Ponta," he instructed when he had finished and covered his patient in warm blankets. "I'm going to get us some lunch."

The makeshift bow and arrows he had made served him well, and soon there was a pile of trout spread out on a bed of dry leaves. The next step was to build a fire just big enough to cook them over. After fashioning a spit to roast the fish with, Girag set about his second task of the day. He had just removed the first two trout from the fire when the boy stirred. His eyes opened, revealing a pair of stunning green orbs.

"I smell food," he said. He attempted to sit up, but immediately squeezed his eyes shut- against a wave of dizziness, Girag presumed- and fell back onto his bed of blankets.

"You shouldn't move yet," Ponta said firmly. The boy opened his eyes again and focused on the large raccoon-turned-boy sitting next to him.

"Why is your nose red?" He asked. Ponta grinned, then transformed back into his raccoon shape.

"I'm a kumiho; a shape shifter," He explained.

The boy's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. "Really? What else can you change into?"

"That's enough, Ponta," Girag said sternly. "May I remind you that we don't even know this boy?" Girag spoke in Widehan-yosae, not wanting the stranger to understand him. He reached over and helped the boy slowly sit up and lean against a large tree behind him.

"Oh, I get it. You must be the raccoon's double."

"My name is Kiraku," Girag told him. "You can call me Girag. And actually, Ponta is my double."

The boy just shrugged. "Same thing." Girag didn't think it was at all the same thing, but he didn't say so.

"You are hungry," he said instead, handing the boy one of the freshly fried, and now cooled, fish.

"Man, how did you know what was on my mind? I'm famished!" The boy grabbed the trout and tore in, ripping off a large shred with his teeth and gulping it down. Girag watched his for a moment before returning to the fire to begin cooking another two fish.

The boy ate twice as much as Girag and Ponta did combined that night, all before even telling them his name. When the meal was over, this was Girag's first order of business.

"My name's Alito," the boy answered, sticking out his hand for Girag to shake. "It's great to meet you."

"Well, Alito, where do you come from and where are you going?" Girag asked, pulling his blanket tighter around him.

"I'm from Spartan City, and I was going to Widehan-yosae to warn them. I assume that's where you're from?"

Girag nodded slowly. "Warn us? About what?"

"About Astrania." Alito's eyes darkened. "They attacked us almost half a moon ago. I figured, traveling alone, I could travel faster than them and make it to your country in time to warn you. I guess I'm too late, huh?"

Girag's brow furrowed. Did this boy know something he didn't? "Too late?"

"You wouldn't be in these woods if you weren't running, just like me." Alito pointed out.

"No," Girag said softly, "We wouldn't be." Of course, he was- he was escaping with his country's most important military papers- but he couldn't let Alito know that.

"We found you half in the river with a head injury," Ponta piped up. "What happened?"

"Well, I was trying to catch some fish and I slipped and hit my head on some rocks. I'm lucky that you guys came along and found me."

Girag frowned in confusion. "You were trying to catch fish? I didn't see any weapons lying around where we found you. Did they fall into the river?"

"Weapons? Pshaw!" Alito rolled his eyes. "I don't need weapons. Never have, never will. I was trying to grab those trout with my hands. Caught one, too. But it was so wriggly I lost my grip and my balance. Hence," He gestured to his head injury.

Girag knew Ponta well enough to know that the Kumiho was trying very hard not to laugh, but something was bothering him. "What do you mean, 'you never have needed weapons?' A kid your age probably doesn't do a lot of fighting."

Alito crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "I'll have you know that I'm a gladiator. I fight all the time. And I win, too, just by using my fists."

This by was a gladiator? Girag had always found the Spartan practice of pitting fighters against tone another in the arena for entertainment despicable, but now he was even more horrified. "You're a gladiator? You can't be more than, what, six?"

"I'm nine. I'm small for my age. Or at least, I will be nine at the end of the rainy season."

Girag wasn't sure what to say next, but Ponta had been thinking that this kid was obviously incapable of taking care of himself, so he said, "With that head injury, you won't be able to travel very far on your own. How about you join us? We have enough supplies for three, and there's strength in numbers."

"That would be great," Alito grinned. "Where are we going?"

"West," Girag said, turning his head in that direction, "To the Tachyon Mountains."

"Sounds good to me," Alito said, stretching. "I'm heading west with a raccoon and his double. Hmm. I'll have to remember that; it's catchy."

Girag made a mental note to correct the younger boy, and now his traveling companion, later, and then thought better of it. His time would be more wisely spent teaching Alito how to effectively cover his tracks.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **A new generation of heroes is forming...**


	7. Safe Haven

"Are we almost there?" Alito complained loudly, eliciting a long sigh from both Girag and Ponta.

"Yes, we're almost there," Girag said. He was in the lead, with most of the supplies. The traveling party was now in the Tachyon Mountains, which Girag knew because of the increasingly step and rocky path they were climbing, but they had yet to come across any people. Luckily, they had made it here without any trouble, and he doubted any Astranian who managed to find them this far would dare venture into the territory of the great Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon. The mighty beast was known to hate trespassers, though not fugitives, which was why Girag felt relatively safe.

Alito, on the other hand, was anything but optimistic. Because of his head injury, he couldn't walk for very long without getting either a headache or dizzy, so Ponta and Girag had to take turns carrying him on their backs piggy-back style. It hadn't been so bad on level ground, in the forest where trees provided shade as well as cover. But now, up a steep hill and with nothing to shield them from the sun's rays, it was far more exhausting. On top of that, Alito hated being inactive, and therefore made up for his dormant muscles by running his mouth. He talked about anything and everything, consistently. And then there was the constant whine of "Are we there yet?" Over the past suns of traveling with him, Girag was beginning to see that, despite his experience in the arena, Alito acted more like an immature child than a seasoned fighter. Of course, Girag couldn't doubt his story, because he had seen the callouses on the boy's fists.

He never would have admitted it, but Girag liked the small, energetic boy. His endless tirades gave him something to think about other than the uncertainty ahead.

They reached a more level part of the mountain and stopped to rest, Girag gently lowering Alito to the ground. The boy immediately began stretching and doing jumping jacks. "How much farther?" The smaller boy asked, reaching to touch his toes.

"As far as we have to go to find people who are on our side," Girag said. After they had all caught their breath and Girag and Ponta had switched burdens, they continued on up the mountain, looking for any signs of inhabitants. They stopped for lunch- dried fish and berries- when the sun was directly overhead, and then picked themselves up and trudged on again. It was midafternoon before anything happened, and then it was so startling that it almost cost Alito another head injury because Girag nearly dropped him (he and Ponta had switched back by that point).

A sword had appeared out of nowhere and was now pointed at Girag's throat. "Who goes there? Are you friend or foe?"

"I can take him," Alito whispered, cracking his knuckles. He was anxious for a fight. Ponta shook his head urgently at him.

"I am Kiraku of Widehan-yosae," Girag said calmly. "These are my traveling partners: Ponta, my partner; and Alito, the Spartan. We come in peace." 

"Why have you come to the Tachyon Mountains? We are not known for our hospitality."

"We are fleeing from the traitor Domitian and his army."

There was a long moment of silence after Girag's last statement before the sword vanished, as quickly as it had materialized. Then, from his hiding place among the rocks, a tall, slender boy with blonde hair and sharp blue eyes stepped into view. "My name is Mizar," he said. "I apologize for my suspicion, but we cannot be too careful. Some of the refugees fleeing here could be Astranian spies. Come, follow me."

Girag wanted to ask how Mizar knew they weren't imposters, but he decided it would be more prudent to be silent. Alito, however, was not so tactful.

"How do you know we're not enemies? In fact, how do we know _you're_ not an Astranian spy?"

Mizar turned and glared at Alito with those piercing blue eyes of his. "Do I look Astranian to you?" He asked coldly, before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Try to be more diplomatic, Alito," Girag whispered. "And he's not an enemy. He is tall, pale, and fair. Astranians are shorter, creamier skinned, and practically none of them are blonde. Come on." Alito did as he was told, though he was still scowling.

The boy, Mizar, led them down a steep, narrow path so well hidden by brush that Girag knew he probably would have missed it just walking by. At the bottom of the path, there was an entrance to a cave, also very well camouflaged. Girag automatically analyzed it as a defensive position, scanning the nearby landscape. Should the enemy manage to fine this place, which wasn't very likely to begin with, the only way in would be to charge it directly, and with the layers of rock above the entrance, there were plenty of places for archers to hide and rain arrows down on the advancers.

"This is a safe place to be," Girag murmured to Ponta, who nodded in agreement. As Mizar led them through the many corridors of the safe haven, Girag's opinion was reinforced. This place was a maze, entirely carved out of rock. If you didn't know your way around, you would get hopelessly lost. They finally entered what Girag guessed was the main cavern- in the very center of this particular peak. Fires burned all along the walls, keeping the chamber warm. There were people there of all appearances, all of them busy with something. Some sharpened knives, some cooked, some read, some polished boots, and a dozen others tended to a dozen other tasks.

"I wonder if there are any good fighters here," Alito said, looking around.

"Now is not the time to pick a fight," Girag said under his breath.

"Chief Somatun," Mizar called to the leader of the Mountain people, weaving his way through the crowd towards an elderly man, leaning heavily on a carved staff, "These are new refugees from lands conquered by the Astranians. They call themselves Kiraku, Ponta, and Alito," he added, nodding to each of them in turn.

Chief Somatun also nodded in greeting. "Where do you three hail from?" He asked.

"Ponta and I come from Widehan-yosae, and Alito comes from Sparta. We met when our paths converged and, realizing we had a common destination, decided to journey together. Chief Somatun closed his eyes and sat down again, as though an enormous weight had just been placed on his shoulders.

"Both Sparta and Widehan-yosae have fallen? Can it be true?"

"We just told you it was," Alito said. Girag resisted the urge to kick him. Chief Somatun either didn't hear the comment or chose to ignore it, because he didn't respond.

Instead he said, "We are the last free Barian country remaining. How can we stand on our own?" He turned to Girag. "Did any of your leaders survive?"

"I don't know," the young warrior answered truthfully. "But surely, fear of the Galaxy-Eyes will keep Domitian away."

Chief Somatun shook his head sadly. Mizar explained, "The Tachyon Dragon has been silent for over a century. It is said that only chosen dragon tamers can hope to command its power. When the last of these dragon tamers died, Tachyon retreated so far into the mountains that no human could hope to reach his hideaway."

"When Galaxy-Eyes wants to be found, he will come out of hiding," Chief Somatun said. "When that will be, he only knows. It is not something we can control." He gave a long sigh. "How old are you and Alito, Kiraku?"

"I'm eleven, and Alito is eight."

"Almost nine!" the younger boy protested.

"That works out well. Mizar, since they are around your ages, they can stay with you and Dumon. There's enough room in your room for four." He turned to the second Girag, standing behind the first one. "Ponta, what is your preferred shape?"

The Kumiho gaped at Chief Somatun in shock. "How did you know I was a shape-shifter?"

The old man smiled. "When you've been around as long as I have, you learn to tell the difference between Kumihos and actual identical twins. Isn't that right, Jinlon?"

"Yes," Another elderly man stepped into view. "Mizar, if you'll be alright without me for a while, I'm going to go one patrol."

Mizar nodded. "Alright." He turned to the new arrivals. "You follow me. I'll show you where you'll be staying, with Dumon and me."

"Why'd you send an old guy out on patrol alone?" Alito asked.

Mizar sighed in annoyance. "Jinlon isn't an old man. He is one of the dragons that have lived here for far longer than any human. Like Ponta, he can take a human shape, though that shape doesn't mimic anyone else's. That's the difference between a Dragon and a Kumiho, right, Kiraku?"

"Yes. And please, call me Girag."

"Alright, Girag."

Once again, the three boys- well, two boys and one raccoon in the shape of a boy- followed the blonde boy through a maze of corridors until they reached a room, still large and spacious, but much smaller than the main cavern. Inside, sitting on one of four beds, was a short boy with gray hair. "Dumon, I'd like you to meet Girag, Alito, and Ponta. They're going to be sharing our room with us."

Dumon got to his feet and bowed at the waist. "I'm pleased to meet you," he said.

"And so are we," Girag said, returning the greeting.

"Where do you come from?" Alito, never the diplomat, asked.

"I was born and raised in Drachelm," the gray haried boy answered. Girag wondered if there was something in the air here that made everyone except Mizar immune to Alito's callousness.

"Drachelm?" The olive-skinned boy seemed curious. "Is it true that you have flying horses there? What are they called again? I can never remember."

Dumon gave Alito a small smile. "Pegasuses. And yes, although there are not nearly as many of them as there used to be, they do still reside in my homeland." His smile faded. "At least, I hope they still do." Girag nodded his understanding. Not knowing what was happening in your home country was almost maddening, and Dumon had been absent far longer than Girag had.

"Dumon's companion, Mach, traveled with him all the way from Drachelm to reach us," Mizar spoke up. "Mach is a white Pegasus- a young stallion. When Dumon was sick with fever, that horse wouldn't eat or sleep without a lot of coaxing. It reminded me of Dragluon- or Jinlon as he was introduced to you earlier- and how he's already worried about me."

"It's like that for Kiraku and me, too," Ponta said. Having deposited the supplies he had been carrying on the floor, he was now back in his raccoon form. Dumon looked only mildly surprised as the ring-tailed creature scurried up Girag's leg and arm to perch on his shoulder. "If Kiraku was bed-ridden, I don't think I'd be able to eat or sleep either."

"Man," Alito complained, "Does _everyone_ have a cool animal companion except me?"

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Rio wrestles with her conscience now that she knows what became of her twin brother.**


	8. Iris's Promise

" _This is what happens to those foolish enough to believe their families will come back to save them!" Emperor Domitian's voice carried over the crowd. He pointed a finger at his victim, a boy with purple hair and blue eyes, who was standing between two wooden stakes with his wrists tied to them. "Prince Nash of the United Lands actually thought his dear sister, Princess Marin, would come back to save him if he sacrificed himself to save her! Well, this is where his faith has gotten him! Heartland! Commence with the torture!"_

 _A man with greasy green hair and an evil glint in his eyes approached the helpless Crown Prince, whip in hand. "Be sure to count them, slave," he sneered at Nash. Then, he raised the whip and brought it down on the boy's back. Nash cried out in pain, his body jerking. "I told you to count them!" Heartland yelled at him. "Now I'll have to start over again."_

 _Once again he raised the whip and brought it down, but this time, Nash cried out a shaky "One!" The torture continued, and each time Nash miscounted, Heartland would force him to start again, no matter how he pleaded and begged to be spared. And meanwhile, the only person who0 could save him, his sister, Marin, was trying desperately to get to him, but no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't reach her brother._

" _Why don't you help me, Marin?" He cried. "I gave myself up to save you!"_

" _I know, I know!" Marin sobbed as she ran. "It's all my fault! All my fault!"_

* * *

Rio Kastle awoke with a start. She was shaking, sweating and panting like she had just run for her life. She had barely convinced herself that it was all a dream when there were light footsteps outside her door. Iris poked her head inside the room, her young face etched with concern.

"Are you alright, Rio?" She asked, speaking in Salkie. Rio had made her promise to always speak in a Barian language when the two of them were alone.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Rio was grateful that Quattro had convinced his father to give her and Iris their own rooms when they had all returned from Tenjo, because it was then that her nightmares had begun. Angelica never would have left her alone about it.

The "vacation" at Tenjo had been pure torture. Rio hadn't slept very well and she'd had very little appetite, and wherever she went, Heartland seemed to follow her, taunting the captive princess with his presence. When they had returned to Arclight, Rio had thrown herself into teaching Iris about Baria. She talked about the strengths and weaknesses of each country, what each of them imported and exported, and began teaching Iris all the languages she could remember from their homeland. Since Iris could speak Barian and Salkie fairly well, Rio had started her on the basics, like counting, in Dracht and Astranian. She was determined that Iris would not grow up to be a Heartlandish slave girl, at least not in her mind.

"You must always remember," She said, "Where you truly come from, and that among your people, you are a Princess." Her mornings and evenings spent teaching Iris everything she could were not only for her sister's benefit. Rio, too, felt the need to remind herself of where she came from and who she was. She couldn't let Heartland be right. She couldn't forget about the United Lands, or about Nash.

"You look frightened," Iris said. "I'll sit up with you, if you like."

Rio nodded slowly. "Yes, yes that'd be nice."

"Sing _Maighdean uasal bhàn,_ Rio," Iris said, snuggling down next to her.

"Oh, Iris, you know I can't sing." Her voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. "Not like Nash."

"I want to hear you sing it anyway," Iris said.

"Well, alright," Rio took a deep breath and began, translating the Salkie into Heartlandish in her head as she went to prove to herself that she knew what the words meant and wasn't just singing it from memorization.

A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth

 _Little baby, hear my voice_

Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhàn

 _I'm beside you, O maiden fair_

Ar rìbhinn òg, fàs a's faic

 _Our young Lady, grow and see_

Do thìr, dìleas féin

 _Your land, your own faithful land_

A ghrian a's a ghealach, stiùir sinn

 _Sun and moon, guide us_

Gu uair ar cliù 's ar glòir

 _To the hour of our glory and honor_

Naoidhean bhig, ar rìbhinn òg

 _Little baby, our young Lady_

Maighdean uasal bhàn

 _Noble maiden fair_

The two sisters were silent for a while, Rio thinking over everything that had happened in her young life. Thinking of Nash. "Iris," she said urgently. "I need you to make me one more promise.

"Sure, Rio, whatever you want."

"It's not just 'whatever,' Iris. This is very important. Do you understand?" Iris sat up and turned to face her sister, her own solemn face staring back at her.

"Yes, I understand that if you tell me to take it seriously, I should." Rio's suddenly serious attitude frightened and confused Iris a bit, but she trusted her sister, even though it was obvious she was hiding something from her. Quattro, hurt by Rio's preference to tach her sister Barian languages rather than learn Heartlandish ones, had asked the younger sister if she knew what the secret was. Iris had answered honestly that she didn't, and that Rio would only tell when she was ready.

"Promise me, Iris," Rio said, her voice quavering slightly, "That you will never forget that you have an older brother who gave up everything for you."

A fuzzy image of Nash flashed through Iris's mind. "I promise," she said.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Our story travels to Tsukamo for more insight into Quinton and Kari's relationship…and more.**

* * *

 **I do not own "A Noble Maiden Fair." All right belong to** _ **Brave**_ **and Disney.**


	9. Walk on the Flip Side

"Come on, Chris, You're making Yuma look fast."

"You have to remember," the Crown Prince panted, "We don't have mountains like this in Arclight."

Princess Kari rolled her eyes. "Mountain? This is just a hill. And it has _stairs._ "

"Oh, Kari," Empress Mira chided her daughter, "Don't tease poor Christopher so. He's right; there aren't many places quite like this in his native land.

"Oh, alright." Kari reached out to help Chris up the next flight of stairs. The young prince was always amazed at Kari's displays of strength and independence. He honestly didn't think she'd need a man by her side to rule Tsukamo. She was much more outspoken than any royal or noble lady he had ever met before. Of course, Tsukamo had always been for liberal than its northern neighbors.

For example, right now, the entire royal family was climbing the staggering amount of stairs to the home of Master Roku. In his younger days, back when Haru, Kari's grandmother, had been Empress, Roku had been the top swordsman and instructor in the palace guard. Now, he lived alone in the eastern mountains, which were really rolling hills filled with trees of all shapes and sizes. He would still take the occasional swordsman under his wing, including Prince Yuma, but not nearly as many as he had taught when he'd worked in the palace.

He and the Dowager Empress had remained friends through the years, and every fall, Haru would come up here to enjoy the clean air and fresh apples, or so Christopher had heard. For about two weeks at the end of September, the rest of the royal family would also make the trek to Roku's sanctuary to enjoy a small vacation. This year, because he was a guest, Chris had been invited to join them. He'd accepted not realizing the physical demands that would be made of him. Not to say that the firstborn Prince of Arclight was out of shape- far from it- but he'd hardly ever been asked to climb so many stairs.

He'd been confused that morning when they'd set out on foot and with only a few soldiers to accompany them, especially since they'd gone in a different direction than the servants who'd left the day before, traveling with all the luggage along the longer, but much less steep, wagon road.

Christopher had asked Emperor Kazuma what they were doing, but all he'd gotten for an answer was, "A nice, long hike is very good for your health, my boy." He was seriously doubting that statement right about now. Even none-year old Yuma, on his short little legs, was managing better than he was.

With Kari's help, Chris managed to make it up the last three flights. Though she teased him mercilessly, Kari was secretly pleased with the boy people hoped she would marry. He wasn't nearly as annoying as Yuma, and he never tried to make her feel inferior by answering for her or something like that, like all those old arranged marriage fiancés in books seemed to do. He was calm and reasonable, which, though it could be infuriating at times, she appreciated. He also had a great wealth of knowledge. Kari couldn't get enough of all the things he knew, like astronomy and other sciences. She had documented everything he'd said very carefully, not wanting to forget any of it. She wished girls could be given as much academic training as boys. When she did become Empress, that was one of the first things she would see to.

Master Roku and Empress Haru were waiting for the weary travelers at the top of the stairs, smiling widely. "Grandma!" Yuma cried happily, scampering over to his grandmother and throwing his arms around her. When he'd finished greeting her, he repeated the process on Master Roku.

"Have you been practicing your stances?" The old man asked, pretending to glare sternly down at the young Prince.

"Uh…sort of," Yuma admitted guiltily.

"How are you, Mom?" Kazuma asked Haru, greeting her.

"Very well. The fresh mountain air always does wonders for my arthritis."

Master Roku also greeted each member of the royal family, before settling his eyes on Chris. "So, this must be the young man that Kari has been running around with."

"Oh, Roku," Haru swatted him. "You know very well they haven't been 'running around.'"

Roku laughed. "Yes, I do." He extended his hand to the Arclightian crown Prince, whose face had gone beet red at the old man's words. "Hello, son. I'm happy to meet you."

That evening was unlike any Chris had ever experienced. The food was all home grown and eaten without any silver wear. There were fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, and cheese. The apples, Chris noted, were particularly good. Master Roku was unlike anyone he had ever met. He had very poor manners, chewing brazenly with his mouth open in front of the royal women, and no one batted an eye. Well, except for Chris.

"He always does that," Kari said when she caught him staring.

The old timer also had many tales to tell, of enemies he had captured and attacks he had thwarted, most of them single-handedly. Some stories were terrifying, and others made Master Roku's audience laugh until their sides hurt. He was in the middle of telling how he'd stopped one intruder attempting to rob the royal treasury by snagging his big toe in a mouse trap when there was a loud BANG! As the doors to the sanctuary were thrown open.

A young man, probably about eighteen or so, came rushing into the room, breathing heavily his dark purple, violet, and black clothes drenched with sweat. Chris noted, with a shiver, the long, deadly saber hanging at his side. "Master!" The young swordsman gasped out, "That blasted fiend is at it again!"

Master Roku was instantly on his feet, suddenly looking serious, all thoughts of mouse traps gone. "Where, Kaze?'

"The northern side of town. Several farms have already been hard hit."

"Very well. I'll be there shortly."

"Roku, what kind of 'fiend' was Kaze talking about?" Emperor Kazuma asked as the old man armed himself.

"We're not sure, exactly," Roku said. "But wherever it goes, things get flipped upside down. Animals get lose, stored crops are tramples all over the place, windows are broken, sides of buildings are splattered with paint. You name it, this guy has done it. We've been after him- or her, or it- for months now."

The Tsukamonian Emperor quickly got to his feet. "I'm coming with you," he said, determination written on his face. "If this thing is threatening my citizens, I want to give it a piece of my mind." Master Roku nodded, reaching for his sword and tying it to his waist. Kazuma turned to Chris, taking a small dagger out of his clothing and handing it to the Arclight Prince. "I trust you know how to handle one of these?"

"Oh, yes, your highness," Chris said, accepting the weapon.

"Good lad. Hopefully we'll be back by morning." Kazuma kissed his wife and children goodbye before joining Roku out in the blackness of night.

"Is the monster going to come here to get us?" Yuma asked.

"Of course not, darling," Mira comforted him, wrapping her arms around the boy and cradling him in her arms. "Let's all try to get some sleep."

"Go ahead. I'll keep watch," Chris said, heading for the door.

"Not all night, you won't," Kari said stubbornly. "We'll take turns. Wake me in an hour."

"Alright." Any other girl, Chris would have argued keeping watch was a man's job, but he knew by now better than to say that to Kari.

Chris was on his second watch when he heard it. A strange shuffling sound, like someone trying to find their way in the dark of an unfamiliar place. Silently, the crown prince reached for the dagger Kazuma had left him with and slowly edged his way towards the noise. He waited until he was right on top of the fiends before jumping it.

A great scuffle followed, waking the members of the Tsukamonian royal family lodged in Roku's sanctuary. A scuffle was all it was, for despite the creature's strange hissing sounds and well-placed kicks, it was soon revealed that it, or rather, _he,_ was a very small boy with large eyes. When Chris had finally pinned the boy beneath him, panting heavily, he was quite vexed. He was trained in hand-to-hand fighting, but despite his obvious advantage, the boy had given him a run for his money.

"Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me! I'm innocent, I tell you! Innocent."

"We haven't accused you of anything yet, you dolt," Kari snapped at him. "And if you're innocent, how come you attacked Chris?"

"I didn't attack anybody! _He_ jumped _me!_ "

Yuma, who until that moment had been clutching his mother's skirt, let go of it and came to crouch down next to the boy's head, peering at him with curious red eyes. "Are you the monster?" he asked.

"Monster? What monster?" The boy looked even more alarmed now.

"The fiend that's been causing trouble in the village near here," Chris said coldly.

"Oh." The boy sniffed, and then, to everyone's surprise, burst into tears. "Yes! It was me! I did it! I did it, I tell you!"

"Oh, and you're still innocent," Kari said sarcastically.

"Kari," Empress Mira shook her head at her daughter. "Let's get this boy inside the sanctuary, give him some better clothes and some food. I'm sure he'll be able to explain everything more clearly once he's more comfortable."

She was right. Clean, tidy, and with a full belly, the small "fiend" was much calmer and able to answer their questions. "What's your name, child?" Empress Mira asked him.

"I'm called Flip," the tiny boy said.

"How old are you, Flip?"

"Nine."

"Nine! My goodness. Who takes care of you?"

"No one. I've been on my own for as long as I can remember," he said. "With nowhere else to go, I lived on the street. Kids always teased me, calling me tiny and puny. They said I would have to fight for anything I needed, like food or good sleeping space. Of course, since they were so much bigger, they always took anything I did manage to get away from me anyway." He clenched his fists in anger. "But I showed them. I showed them all! I discovered there was a flips side to being so small. I can fit into almost anything without being noticed. No one notices a tiny little boy when there're so many other important things to see. Once I mastered the flip side, I took my revenge. Their morsels of food disappeared as soon as they turned around. I tricked them into giving up the best things they managed to gather. I took them for a walk on the flip side!"

Kari opened her mouth to say something snarky, but Mira hushed her. Chris tried to suppress a smile, imagining what the girl might have said.

"Of course, they didn't like the flip side very much," Flip said softly. "They made me leave eventually. I wandered from place to place. Everywhere, people laughed at me because I was so small. They don't understand what it's like!" he burst into tears again. "They all have homes and families and friends. They don't see the flip side to their happiness. So I took it upon myself to show them. That's why I did everything I did." He sniffed, wiping his tears away. "Of course, sometimes I caused more trouble than I meant to. I can't see very well, and everything looks blurry, so I would make mistakes…" He bit his lip. "It was one more reason for the bigger kids to tease me. I was as small and as blind as a bat."

"Oh, that's no problem," Empress Mira said. "We'll get you some glasses. They help many people to see better these days."

"Yeah," Yuma agreed. "You'll look hip. And you can be friends with me and my friends back at the palace. Caswell, Bronk, and Tori are all really nice. You'll like them, and they won't ever tease you or anything."

"R-really?" Flip's eyes shone with hope as he looked at the Prince.

"Sure."

"Yuma, I'm not sure if-" his mother began.

"Dad won't mind. He always says we should help everyone we can."

"It's not your father I'm worried about," Mira murmured. Chris nodded his agreement. Master Roku and Kaze were not going to be pleased that a fiend that had been bothering them for months had been caught and then invited to come and stay in the palace with the prince. The Empress was going to have some negotiating to do.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Kiilee, Shark, and Vector develop a secret code so they can communicate without being understood.**


	10. Secret Code

_The horse's name was "Horse" (Buttercup was never long on imagination) and it came when she called it, went where she steered it, did what she told it. The farm boy did what she told him too. Actually, he was more a young man now, but he had been a farm boy when, orphaned, he had come to work for her father, and Buttercup referred to him that way still. "Farm Boy, fetch me this"; "Get me that, Farm Boy- quickly, lazy thing, trot now or else I'll tell father."_

" _As you wish."_

 _This was all he ever answered. "As you wish." Fetch that, Farm Boy. "As you wish." Dry this, Farm Boy. "As you wish." He lived in a hovel out near the animals and, according to Buttercup's mother, he kept it clean. He even read when he had candles._

This was the passage that Kiilee, Shark, and Vector were working on one morning in the cold season. They'd been cooped up like this for over a moon, which gave them a lot of time to work on learning different languages, both in speech and in writing. As long as the weather allowed them, Shark and Vector had worked on sword fighting skills. To Shark's disappointment (which he was careful to hide) Vector wasn't very good opponent. He was, to be brutally honest, an incompetent oaf when it came to sword play. Shark had eventually grown exasperated with not having any challenge at all, and so had taken it upon himself to teach him some basic grips and stances. Vector had said it was hopeless, until they had started making a game out of it. Kiilee, on the sidelines, would be Buttercup, held captive by Vizzini, Vector would be the masked man, trying to steal her from her kidnappers, and Shark would be Inigo, the dueling wizard who wanted to test his skills against the mysterious man in black. Getting into character as the hero of the story, Vector's confidence and ability had soared. Of course, none of their duels had ended the way the one in the book had- Shark, though a bit rusty, was still skilled with a blade, and Vector was still an amateur.

Then, the cold season had come, and no one wanted to go outside and practice anymore. So, attention had turned to language study. Shark would copy a passage from _The Princess Bride,_ translating it into Barian. Vector would then attempt to translate it back into Salkie, so he could learn the language. At the same time, Shark would write it in Heartlandish, using the alphabet Kiilee had taught him, and Kiilee, who could speak Astranian but not read or write it, would attempt to write the passage in that language. Of course, all of them had to ask questions of each other about words they didn't know, since they had only covered the basics of the language before beginning. While they translated, they also took notes on new information, so they could have it as a reference. As Shark said, they weren't just trying to translate one book into multiple languages; they were also trying to learn those languages. Once they had mastered Barian, Astranian, Salkie, and Heartlandish, both in speech and in script, they would move onto Dracht, Tenjonian (Kiilee's native tongue), Arclightian, and Tsukamonian. Shark hadn't had so much intellectual stimulation in a long time. He'd forgotten how much he missed it.

"I wonder," Vector spoke up, when he was about halfway through his translation, "If we should write the Barian translations in the Heartlandish alphabet and the Heartlandish translations in the Barian alphabet."

"Why would we?" Shark asked. "It's not like anyone would be able to read it accept us."

Vector's face lit up with inspiration. "Hey, you're right!"

Both Kiilee and Shark stared at him. "Why are we happy about that?

"Because we could have our own secret code to write each other messages!"

"Why would we need to send each other information in code?" Kiilee asked.

"I don't know. But it would be fun, wouldn't it? To have a written language no one else could understand? Who would guess that the symbols," he picked out a piece of paper from his notes, ""S,' 'H,' 'A,' 'R,' and 'K' refer to you, Shark? There are only three sounds in your name, so it's written with three symbols from the Barian alphabet. No one would guess five letters could make up the same name."

Vector was right, Shark realized. The Heartlandish alphabet _was_ overly complicated. For instance, in his name, two Heartlandish letters, 'S' and 'H' were combined to make a sound that one Barian symbol could make. Unless you were very skilled in deciphering language's, Shark's name, in the Heartlandish alphabet, would sound like sss-haa-erk to any Barian. It was a concept Kiilee had struggled to explain to the two boys.

She had eventually taught them her native alphabet and how it worked by writing her name in four different ways. First, she had written it in the Barian alphabet, using the symbols for 'K,' 'I,' 'L,' and 'E.' Then she had written it in Barian using Heartlandish letters. 'K' was pretty straightforward. To symbolize what she called the long 'I' sound, she'd written two I's next. Then came the 'L,' and finally, two Heartlandish e's to make the long 'E' sound. Altogether, it looked like 'Kiilee.' Next, she had written her name the way she had at home in Tenjo- 'Kylie.' Finally, she had translated each of those Heartlandish symbols into their corresponding Barian letters, so the final product looked like ka-ya-el-ih-eh to Shark and Vector. It was baffling.

"Alright," Shark said slowly, warming to the idea. "So we write the messages in the Heartlandish alphabet. What language do we use?"

"Any of them! We could even write in a combination!"

"Preferably," Kiilee spoke up, "We should use Salkie and Heartlandish, since they are the least likely to be recognized if someone did manage to decipher the alphabet."

Shark nodded his agreement. "Good thinking."

"Wait a minute," Vector said, deep in thought, which was unusual for him. "What it we can't get a written message to the other person? What if we just have to shout out whatever we want to say in front of whoever, and there's no time to sit down and code a message? What if we have to speak in Barian or Astranian?"

"Do I want to know what type of situation you're thinking of?" Shark asked dryly.

"Maybe not. But it made me think of something else. You know how whenever the farm boy tells Buttercup 'as you wish,' he really means 'I love you?'"

"Yes…"

"What if we had something like that?"

"You want to tell one of us you love them?"

"Of course not!" Vector said, turning bright red. "I just meant that we could say something and only one of us would know that it meant something completely different."

"Okay. Give us an example."

"Well… if I shouted, 'he's not left-handed either' to one of you, what would you think I meant?"

"The person we were dealing with had a trick up their sleeve."

"Exactly."

"You know something, Vector?" Shark asked, grinning, "I like the idea. Let's get to work and work out the kinks in this secret code of ours. It mind come in handy someday."

He could never have guessed just how handy.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **It's back to Tsukamo to meet another familiar face.**


	11. The Cat's Meow

Tori Meadows sat wrapped in a blanket, sipping a cup of hot cider. A new year had begun. She, Prince Yuma, and all their friends- Bronk, Caswell, and Flip- were nine now. Yuma's birthday party in October had been the biggest one yet because of all the friends he'd made in the past year. Flip, looking rather owl-like because of his new glasses, had been ecstatic about attending the first party of his young life. Caswell was a little under the weather- he always was during the fall and the winter- but he had been there to watch Yuma open his presents. Of course, both Tori and Bronk had attended, since they were the Prince's oldest friends.

Yuma's most exciting present, however, had been from Master Roku. It was stacks of wooden cards, each with a different drawing on it and instructions. Master Roku had explained in his letter that in his travels, he'd learned about a different type of dueling than the swordplay he taught in his sanctuary. This dueling was a game called Duel Monsters. Master Roku had written that, in other time and other places, when the game was played, real monsters would appear and battle each other for their wielders. These wooden decks, though, he'd explained, were just imitations. No monsters were going to burst out of them.

However, the game did demand strategy and tactics, and it was loads of fun, based on how much time Yuma and the boys spent playing it. Because of the game's demands, Christopher and Kari often stopped by to watch. That tactical maneuvers intrigued the Arclightian Prince especially. He always enjoyed anything that challenged you to think outside the box, and he would have lied to try his own hand at a duel. But he was too polite to intrude, so he let the younger boys duke it out alone. Each of them wanted to master the game and become the best duelist in the castle. Bronk and Flip were both excellent, matching each other card for card. Caswell didn't get to play as much, due to his coming and going cold, but he too had good strategies. Yuma, on the other hand, was hopeless. But he kept trying; you had to give him that.

"Now I play Gagaga Magician in attack mode," He announced, placing a wooden card face up. Gagaga Magician and Gagaga Girl had quickly become his favorite cards.

"Too bad, Yuma," Bronk said smugly. "I activate a trap!"

Tori sighed. She had watched them do this over and over again, and she was rather tired of Yuma getting his butt kicked. Not for the first time, she wished there was another girl her age in the castle that she could share her frustrations with. Or duel against, maybe. Yuma had tried to get her to join them, but the last thing she wanted was to get involved in this ridiculous façade with a bunch of boys. She preferred to just watch. Now, if a girl had wanted to face her, that would have been different. Tori would have liked to duel against someone more sensible than these four.

Of course, it wasn't as if watching was so bad. Now that it was January, it was cold in the usual play areas, so the group would gather in one of the main sitting rooms with a large fire place and curl up in blankets with hot cider and cinnamon buns.

It was because of their convenient location that the five friends heard the commotion outside in the hallway. Tori was quick to throw off her blanket and head for the door, peering out to see what was happening. Gauds were running around, talking to each other in urgent voices.

"How dangerous is it?"

"I don't know. But we have to make sure it can't attack the Emperor or the Empress."

"Did you guys hear that?" Tori whispered.

Yuma nodded, his eyes wide. "Let's go check it out."

He opened the door further and turned down the hallway, further into the palace and towards the throne room.

"Yuma!" Tori hissed. "Don't you think that if we were supposed to know what's going on, someone would have sent for us?"

"Maybe we're not supposed to know," Yuma said, "But my mom and Dad could be in trouble!" And with that, he took off.

"Yuma!" All four of his friends ran to catch up with him, wondering what they would find when they got to the throne room. They heard it before they saw it- a mixture of hissing and scratching noises. It almost wavered some of their resolves, but it only made Yuma more determined to save his parents from whatever dared to threaten them.

Bursting into the throne room, the Prince and his companions were immediately aware of the person crouching before Kazuma, ready to pounce. It was a girl, or at least it looked like a girl, dressed in rags and covered in dirt and leaves. Her eyes were teal, contrasting with her gay hair, and they darted around the room, watching for who would come at her first. The most noticeable things about her, though, were the cat-like tail and ears.

The reaction to Yuma's entrance was immediate. "Prince Yuma! Get back!"

"You highness, please go somewhere where you'll be safe!"

"If I'm in danger, why are my parents and my sister here?" For the first time, Tori noticed Kari and Chris sitting beside the Emperor and Empress.

The throne room was uncomfortably silent, because no one really knew how to answer Yuma's question.

Emperor Kazuma let out a long sigh. "You're right, Yuma. This concerns all of us."

Yuma looked as though he was sure he'd heard wrong. "Really?"

"Yes. Your friends can stay, too." Yuma scurried up to sit in his small throne next to his father's, and Tori, Bronk, Flip, and Caswell went to chairs along the wall. "Now, I've called this emergency meeting to decide what to do with this girl here," Kazuma began. "Chris, I've invited you here to hear your judgement on the matter. You will someday be the ruler of your own country, whether it be Tsukamo or Arclight, and you will have to deal with such matters."

Chris nodded slowly, evidently too nervous to trust himself to speak.

Empress Mira lightly touched her husband on the sleeve. "Dear, perhaps you should explain the situation first- for the benefit if those who don't know." She nodded discreetly at Chris and the young new arrivals.

"What? Oh, yes. Of course." Kazuma cleared his throat and began, "As some of you know, slavery was still very prominent in Tsukamo in the days of my great-grandfather. Most of these poor victims were imported from the Southern Isles, but there were some that came from the north- specifically the island of Animalia. Tenjo slave traders once captured a large group of prisoners from one of the clans native there- the Cat Clan. Finding they couldn't control them with conventional methods, the Lord of Tenjo and his advisors decided to send them here. However, upon arriving, the entire group escaped. They hid themselves in the western woods, in places where no Tsukamonians ever venture. They grew prosperous and multiplied. This girl, who has refused to tell us her name, is one of their descendants. Her people have been causing us significant trouble now that they are so numerous. Now, our task is to convince this young one that we do not feel hostile towards her and her people and send her back to convince her people of that. We need to tell the Cat people of Animalia that we are willing to send any of them who want to go back to their place of origin."

Kazuma finished and sat down, looking around the room. Most of the nobles present were murmuring among themselves, and Chris and Kari had their heads together, discussing. No one noticed that the cat girl had managed to free her hands. No one saw her crouch into a position ready to pounce. Everyone was startled when she suddenly let out a yowl and leapt for a group of Lords standing by the window. Letting out yells of surprise, the four of them dove out of the way, clearing the path for the girl's true objective: the window. She landed on the sill and struggled to unlock the latch, but it was clear she wasn't used to handling such things.

In an instant, the guards were upon her, forcing her arms behind her back and pushing her to the ground while she struggled and hissed at them. It was only for one brief moment, but as Tori watched, her eyes met the girl's, and the message in them was clear. _Help me._

"Stop!" She cried, jumping to her feet. She rushed over to where the girl was being subdued. "She's scared. Let her go." Without thinking, the greenette approached the cat girl and knelt to her level.

"Tori, no!" Bronk cried out as she reached out to help the trapped girl. The guards, who had relaxed their hold on their captive but not completely released her, looked at Emperor Kazuma as if to say, _what do we do now?_

"It's alright," Tori whispered to the girl. "I understand. You just want to get out of here, back to open spaces." The girl's teal eyes stayed locked on Tori's hazel ones as the other girl slowly helped the guards to remove their hands from her arms. When she was free, the cat girl slowly rubbed the circulation back into her limbs; her wary gaze evidence that she thought this might be some sort of trap. With Tori's help, she got to her feet. She stayed very close to the greenette even as Kazuma gestured for the guards to step back. "It's okay," Tori whispered, gently nudging the girl forward.

When it was clear the girl was as close to the Emperor as she was going to get, he said, "I am rather embarrassed that I allowed you to be treated in such a fashion in my own palace. Please, accept my apologies. We should have realized you were only scared, not intending violence towards any of us."

The cat girl watched Kazuma steadily for a long time, before giving a small nod. Some of the worry lines in the man's face disappeared, and he smiled at her. "Now, will you tell us your name?" He asked. The girl remained silent.

"What do your people call you?" Tori asked her. The response was a series of meows and mewls that no one understood.

"Well," Empress Mira said after a moment, "Is it alright if we give you a name? We should have something to address you by." A moment of consideration, then another brief nod. "Good," Empress Mira smiled at her.

"Ooh! I know!" Yuma cried, jumping up and eliciting a startled hiss from the nameless girl. "How about Cathy? We can call her cat for short."

"Cathy," his mother said slowly. "Yes, I think that fits. What do you think, dear? Would you like to be called Cathy?" For the first time, the girl smiled as she nodded.

"Alright then. That's that settled," Kazuma said. "Now, Cathy, as soon as the winter season is over and the weather allows it, the ruler of Animalia, which, as you heard me say, is the country from which your people come, will come to visit us here."

"Queen Dextra's coming here?" Kari asked, staring at her parents in surprise.

"Yes. I thought that it was about time one of us older countries recognized Animalia's sovereignty and treated their young queen as an equal," Kazuma informed her. "Cathy, as you heard me say earlier, we want to give your people the choice of going back to the land of their ancestors. Queen Dextra will provide passage for anyone who wants to go. She will also want to meet all of your people, whether they decide to leave or not. Do you think you can help her- and us- do that?"

Cathy nodded again, giving another small smile.

"Awesome! Welcome aboard, Cat!" Yuma said enthusiastically, coming off his throne and down to shake her hand. She smiled at him, a much larger smile than her previous ones, and blushed slightly as their hands met. For the first time, Tori wondered if having another girl around Yuma might have unforeseen consequences.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Two very interesting guests arrive at Tsukamo.**


	12. Butterfly Wings and Bear Claws

"So, you are Cathy," Queen Dextra said. "I've heard a lot about you." Cathy bowed at the waist to the ruler of Animalia, one arm across her chest and her feet spread apart in the traditional cat clan way. Her cheeks were pink with excitement.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, your highness," she said. Cathy was perfectly capable of speech; however, being shy, it had taken a while to coax it out of her.

"I am the one who is honored," Queen Dextra replied smoothly. A petite woman, her violet hair elegantly framed her face, and her posture was perfect. Reportedly, she was a member of the Butterfly Clan, and her delicate appearance made it very believable. However, petite and delicate as Dextra was, power radiated from her, and you knew that as soon as she entered the room that this was a woman that commanded respect. It was clear why all the clans of Animalia had chosen her as their first ruler.

In contrast, the royal consort, Lord Nistro, was from the Bear Clan. He towered over his wife, and looking at them, you would have thought he was in charge. His eyes were gleaming and wild, his hair red and bushy, and masculine build undeniably intimidating. Well, intimidating to everyone except Yuma, who didn't know when to be intimidated or not.

When the royal couple had first arrived, the Prince had walked right up to him and asked, "Do you duel?" Of course,, Lord Nistro had, at first, thought Yuma meant swordplay, and had informed him that he did, but he preferred less violent pastimes. However, once the game of Duel Monsters had been explained to him, he had quickly become another one of Yuma's playmates.

"That boy draws friends to him like bees to a honey pot," Empress Mira remarked.

"We can hardly condemn him for it, can we, dear?" Kazuma asked. He turned to see one of his long term guests approaching him. "Ah, Queen Dextra, allow me to introduce to Prince Christopher of Arclight. He is visiting us at the moment."

"Queen Dextra," Chris greeted, bowing with one arm behind his back, in the proper Arclightian style. "It is truly a great honor to meet a monarch so greatly respected by her people."

"Monarch?" Queen Dextra raised an eyebrow, curtsying back to him. "I much prefer Butterspys." She straightened, laughing at the look of confusion on Chris's face. "It's a butterfly clan joke," she explained. "I'm sorry. I am pleased to meet you as well, Prince Christopher."

"Oh, monarch. I get it" Chris grinned ruefully. "You must forgive my naivety."

Dextra waved away his embarrassment. "I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness." She turned back to Cathy. "Will you take me to meet your people? I'm very anxious to meet them."

"Of course. This way your highness."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Nistro called from where he was involved in a duel with Yuma.

"No. It's alright," Dextra told him. "You boys have fun." She turned to follow Cathy and Kazuma through the palace, out towards the back, where Cathy's people were waiting for her. "Nistro loves children," The Animalian Queen told Kazuma. "Since he's still a child a heart himself. I think he and Yuma are going to get along well."

Kazuma laughed. "You're probably right."

Cathy people preferred to stay outdoors, so despite the chilly April morning; they were waiting in the courtyard. Kazuma shivered a little as the morning air washed over him, but neither Cathy nor Dextra seemed to notice. If anything, they seemed to relish breathing fresh air. Cathy's people recognized her and called out to her in their cat-like language. Kazuma recognized the series of sounds that Cathy's clan members identified her by.

"Do you understand what they're saying?" He asked as the Cat Clan members communicated with each other. Dextra shook her head.

"Not really. Nistro might; the Bear Clan dialect is closer to theirs."

Cathy must have finished introducing Dextra to her people, because they all turned collectively to greet her in the same manner that Cathy had minutes before. Kazuma hung back as the Animalian Queen spoke with the Cat People, watching the transaction with fascination. After all these years, it looked as if the deep wounds of the slave trade in Heartland were beginning to heal. Now if only he and Byron could convince Lord Faker to give it up altogether. Lady Tenjo would have been easier to convince, as she was a more liberal thinker, but she was probably dead by now.

As the weather grew warmer and April turned to May and May to June, the different royals got to know each other quite well. As Dextra had predicted, Yuma and Nistro became great friends. When they weren't dueling, the palace echoed with laughter and growls (from Nistro) as they played tag or Hide-and-Seek. Cathy fit into Yuma's group of friends easily as well. She always won at Hide-and-Seek because her cat-like features allowed her to hide in trees, so high among the branches that no one could see her from below.

Emperor Kazuma and Queen Dextra stood on a balcony one afternoon, watching as Nistro, Yuma, Tori, Flip, Caswell, and Bronk searched for Cathy, determined not to let her win yet again. The two rulers, unlike the searchers, could see the Cat Girl clearly from their position, and she waved at them and motioned for them to stay quiet. As the two adults watched the final stage of the game, a conversation came up that would change the course of not only Heartlandish, but Barian history.

"Will you and Nistro be going home soon?" Kazuma asked, his eyes following Yuma's path through the gardens.

Dextra nodded. "I have had a definite 'yes' or 'no' from all of the Cat Clan members living here. Most of them will return to Animalia, but a few wish to remain here. These are mostly young ones, like Cathy there." She smiled at the girl crouching on a tree limb, perfectly still to avoid being detected.

"Cathy's decided to stay?"

"Yes. It seems she's grown quite attached to your son Yuma and his friends." She paused, as if trying to decide whether or not to say something.

"What's on your mind?" Kazuma asked, tearing his gaze away from the scene below him to look at her.

"It's Yuma," Dextra began hesitantly. "From what Nistro tells me, he doesn't seem to understand the institution of slavery that brought Cathy's people here."

"Well, he's only a boy," Kazuma said defensively. "I don't think he's ready for all the details yet."

"Then when do you intend to teach him about it?"

Kazuma looked down at the serious young woman before him and nodded slowly. "Yes. One day he'll have to learn what slavery is. Hiding the cruelties from our past from the younger generation is the best way to ensure they're repeated." He turned again to watch his son scurrying about in the gardens below. "But I wish he didn't have to learn."

Dextra nodded her understanding, turning her gaze to her husband. "Sometimes I wonder if Nistro avoids the truth too much. He knows about the cruelties of the world, but having never experienced them for himself, he doesn't really understand. Simply telling him doesn't really get the point across. He needs to _see_ to _understand._ "

"I have a feeling it's the same way with Yuma. We sat Kari down and explained the evils of slavery to her when she started asking questions about her history lessons, and she understood it. But most of the things we say to Yuma go right over his head." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mira and I have been discussing it, on and off. We think that when he's a bit older- thirteen, perhaps- we should take him to see some of the effects of slavery. Probably in the Southern Isles." 

"Those islands are under your jurisdiction, aren't they? Don't your antislavery laws apply to them?"

"Yes, but it's very hard to enforce them there. They have their own governors who pass their own legislation, whether it's in violation of Tsukamonian law or not."

"I see," Dextra said.

Down below, Yuma and the others had finally conceded, and Cathy dropped gracefully down from her hiding place. The seekers all yelped in surprise and jumped back when she made her entrance. Poor Flip turned to run and tripped over a tree root, sending him sprawling to the ground. Both Kazuma and Dextra chuckled at the scene.

"Have you been watching the whole time?" Nistro asked, clearly annoyed. When his wife nodded, the big man let out a growl and charged inside, determined to get up the stairs to the petite purplette. Dextra ran from him, yelling insults over her shoulder until he finally caught her.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with merriment and laughter, and no one guessed that, in other places, a far more deadly game of Hide-and-Seek was beginning.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **A prophecy from the past is brought to light.**


	13. Legend of the Galaxy-Eyes, part 1

Prince Kite followed his father down the stone steps cautiously. The dim light, provided by the torch Lord Faker carried, made it difficult to see more than one step ahead of him. Kite pulled his cloak himself tighter, shivering in the cool dampness. Tenjonian summers were cold in comparison to those of their southern neighbors because of the winds that came in off the fjords, but down here, with no heat from the sun, the difference in temperature was quite noticeable.

Kite hadn't even known these tunnels existed until his father had brought him down here, saying there was something important they had to discuss. The Prince guessed his father had decided on these secret passages for their talk so they would be away from prying eyes and ears- like those of that sleaze ball Heartland. Being very scientific-minded, Kite had at first fought down any revulsion for the greasy-haired man in favor of observing him and drawing conclusions about his behavior. However, he had understood Rio's and Quattro's aversion to him when they'd been visiting last summer.

Speaking of observations, Kite had noticed Rio's sudden change in attitude after hearing Heartland's story. She had been quieter and withdrawn, not at all the girl that he had come to know previously. As a scientist, he had complied the evidence and drawn the conclusion that she felt guilty for what her people had done, perhaps not directly to Heartland- he was despicable- but to Heartlanders in general. After all, Kite's mother, the Tenjonians' beloved former ruler, was dead, and Hart was crippled, because of what her people had done. And Heartland showing up with his story had reminded everyone in the palace of that.

After observing Heartland for the past year, however, he had decided that if anyone ever deserved to be enslaved by Barians, that man did. He was then lowest kind of low, in Kite's opinion, using his sob story to gain favor in Lord Faker's court. That was why he had been appointed as a Lord. Kite may have had to put up with him in the throne room, but elsewhere he avoided the man as much as he could, and he made sure Hart never had any contact with the weasel.

Father and son had finally reached level ground and were now going through another tunnel. If there was another staircase at the end of this one, Kite thought, he was going to turn around and go back. To his relief, when they finally emerged from the tunnel, it was a dead end, albeit an interesting one. It was a large cavern with torches on the walls, illuminating the intricate tapestries hanging there. In the middle of the stone room, on the floor, sat a girl around Kite's age. She was pale, like all Tenjonians, and her blonde hair was only a shade darker than the Prince's. The unusual things about her, though, were what drew his attention. She wore coarse clothing, layers of black and dark brown garments all partially hidden underneath a cloak. Hanging by her side was a long, thin, blade, and covering her left eye was a black patch.

The girl rose gracefully to her feet and bowed before the two royals with her hands clasped together. "Lord Tenjo," she said, her whispery voice echoing in the otherwise silent cave. "You've come at last." Kite's first instinct was to correct her and say that his father was Lord Faker, not Lord Tenjo, but when she raised her head and met his eyes, he realized it was to him that she had been speaking.

She turned to Lord Faker. "Have you told him anything?" Kite looked at his father as he shook his head.

"To be honest, I didn't know where to start."

"Would someone _please_ explain to me what is going on?" Kite demanded.

The girl turned her piercing gaze on the prince. It was then he noticed her one visible pale violet eye. "You probably don't remember me, Kite, but our mothers used to be best friends. My name is-"

"Hillary!" Kite blurted out, suddenly recognizing her. "Hillary Melbourne."

She smiled at him. "So you do remember."

"Remember? How could I forget? We were inseparable when we were kids. Before-" He stopped suddenly. "Before my mother was…taken."

Hillary nodded. "My own mother grieved for the loss of her best friend." She sighed. "She dies of the fever about two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Kite said. He had only vague recollections of Lady Melbourne, but he remembered how much his mother had enjoyed her company.

"Well," Hillary said, straightening her shoulders, "You've asked for an explanation, and I have one to give you." She motioned him to follow her over to the tapestry hanging at the very back of the stone room. It portrayed a girl with long blonde hair reaching out to a mighty dragon. A dragon that Kite had seen before.

"The Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!" He gasped. Hillary smiled at him.

"You are familiar with the legend?"

The Prince nodded. "When our people were threatened by perpetual darkness, one warrior stepped forward and made an alliance with the dragon of light. If the Galaxy-Eyes could protect the people, the warrior would remain his friend for life, and after that, their children and their children's children would keep up the alliance. Together the warrior and the beast battled the darkness, and after days of fighting, their bond finally emerged victorious. The people were so grateful that they made the warrior their ruler." Kite paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That warrior was my ancestor, the first Lady Tenjo."

Hillary nodded. "That is part of the story," she said. "It is illustrated in these tapestries." Kite looked around, realizing that, yes each tapestry depicted a different scene of the tale. Despite the first one, that showed the meeting of the warrior and the Galaxy-Eyes, there was the great battle with the darkness, the exhausted warrior and the dragon standing victorious, and the people of Tenjo crowning their first ruler. The fifth tapestry, however, Kite did not understand. It depicted a sword, surrounded by light. It was so dim in the cavern, the fabric actually seemed to glow.

"What's this?" He asked.

"That's the part of the legend that few people know," Hillary told him. "You see, after the warrior became ruler of Tenjo, which was named after her- she tried to keep her promise to the Galaxy-Eyes. But it soon became clear that the mighty dragon could never be happy living among so many humans like a tourist attraction, so they came up with a plan. Together, they created a special sword, a sword that the warrior could use to call her friend in case she ever needed him. It was forged in the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon's breath, which is why it glows so brightly."

Hillary was quiet for a moment, letting this new information sink in. "Then things got bad," she began again. "The rulers of Tenjo forgot about honor and duty. The younger sibling of one of these rulers, a young boy, was afraid his older brother would use the Galaxy-Eyes's power for his own gain. To ensure the corrupt ruler could never find the mighty dragon, the Prince entrusted the sword to his dearest friend, who escaped with it into the Photon Hills."

As Hillary spoke, Kite studied the tapestries that illustrated her tale. The Photon Hills were far to the east of any Tenjonian City, he knew, which was illustrated in one tapestry by showing the friend with the sword fleeing away from the viewer.

"You see Kite," Hillary interrupted his thought process. "My people are the descendants of that friend. I suppose you could say it was destiny our mothers being such close companions."

"I suppose so," Kite said, "But you still haven't told me why you brought me down here. I have a feeling it wasn't just for a history lesson."

Hillary smiled at him. "You're as sharp as they say, Kite." Kite wanted to ask who "they" were, but Hillary was already beginning the final part of the legend. "Dragons lived here long before humans did. In the Photon Hills, there are many caves that they once occupied. In one of these caves, there is a prophecy written in Dragon Runes. It tells of a great threat- one so great it has the ability to completely destroy life as we now it. When that threat arrives, there will once again be a warrior that has a strong bond with the great Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon. But this bond will be so great; it will allow the Galaxy-Eyes to achieve a new power- the power of the Neo Galaxy-Eyes. This beast is said to be more powerful than a super nova."

She paused, and then said slowly, "There was more to the prophecy, but it was worn away. All we know is that there must be some sort of partnership between the Neo Galaxy-Eyes and something else to call forth an even greater beast. No one is sure what it entails. All I hope is that whatever this threat is, we will not have to figure out how to call forth this other power in order to defeat it."

"Let me guess," Kite said. "You think I'm this great warrior, and you want me to try and bond with the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon to achieve the power of the Neo Galaxy-Eyes."

Hillary nodded. "You are the descendent of the great warrior, Kite, and the threat is fast approaching. Your mother is gone, and your brother cannot fight."

"What is this threat, exactly?"

"We don't know," Hillary admitted. "But the Photon Hills themselves are shuddering with apprehension. Haven't you felt it, Kite? A sense of dread, of something dark on the horizon?"

It was like being blindsided with a revelation. Kite had been having odd feelings for a while, but he hadn't known how to describe them until Hillary had done it for him. "Now that you mention it, that's exactly how I've been feeling for the past year," he said softly. _Ever since Heartland showed up._

"So you know there is something foreboding around us. Will you come, Kite? To save your country? To find out whether or not you can bond with the great Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon?"

Kite turned to her, unable to think of what to say. He had very little logical reason or scientific fact to go on, but his mind was screaming at him that this was the right thing to do. It was like the situation with Rio and Heartland he had found himself trapped in. Rio was a Barain, the enemy; Heartland was the Barians' victim, just like Kite and his family. But Kite's immediate inclination was that, if sides were going to be taken, he wanted to be on Rio's. "I'll come," He said. "Where are we going?"

Hillary smiled, a small, secretive smile. "We don't go to the Galaxy-Eyes, Kite. He comes to us."

"You're really going?" Hart asked his big brother, watching as he fastened the black cloak around his shoulders.

"Yeah. But don't worry. I won't be gone long, and I promise to come back." Kite's hand went to rest on the hilt of the sword he had brought up from the tunnels beneath the castle. The hilt was made of silver, the handle in the shape of the Galaxy-Eyes wrapped around the metal cylinder that was more traditional. The hilt was decorated with emeralds and sapphires, which Kite liked, green and blue being his two favorite colors. He had been taken completely by surprise when Hillary had shown him the secret hiding place behind the sword tapestry. He had figured, from her tale, that the Photon Sword was either gone or hidden somewhere in the Photon Hills, not in his own castle. But then Hillary had explained to him about one Tenjonian ruler's desperate hunt for the special weapon.

Fearing what he would use it for if he managed to find it, Hillary's ancestors had hidden it in the tunnel, knowing he would never look directly beneath his feet. It had been there ever since, and no one except Hillary and her people had known about it. The sword was, according to the legend, supposed to be able to call forth the Galaxy-Eyes, but no one had explained to Kite just _how_ it was supposed to do that yet.

"Hart," the Prince said seriously, kneeling down so he was at the blue-haired boy's level. "While I'm gone, I want you to stay as far away from Heartland as possible."

Hart looked puzzled, but he said, "Okay, Kite."

Adjusting the sword belt one last time, Kite turned on his heel. "Come on, Orbital," he commanded. The dual-color eyed dog rose to his feet and padded after his master, his ears alert. Hart had insisted that his brother take the wolf-dog with him on the journey.

"You need him more than I do," he'd said.

The two, dog and boy, headed down the marble staircase, towards the castle gate where Hillary was waiting for them. Kite's footsteps slowed as he entered the main hall, seeing his father and Heartland watching his approach. Orbital growled and flattened his ears against his head.

"Easy, boy," Kite murmured. Lord Faker and "Lord" Heartland both smiled upon his reaching them. The ruler spoke first.

"Hello, son. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, thank you."

Heartland, smiling with false sincerity, began, "I can't tell you how impressed I am with your ambition, Kite. You're doing a wonderful thing, searching for a power to protect us from the Barians."

"No one ever said the Barians were the threat, Heartland," Kite said coldly. He turned back to his father. "Goodbye, Dad. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, he swept past the two men and out the door. Hillary turned towards him as he neared her, smiling that small, coy smile of hers.

"You look a bit steamed," She observed.

"I don't want to talk about it," he told her. "Let's get moving."

Hillary nodded, turning and leading the way across the great stone bridge that connected the castle to the town in the valley below it. When they stepped off the bridge, however, they bypassed the path to the village and instead entered the wilderness beyond.

Their journey was surprisingly short. It took only two days to reach their destination- the cave where the legend was written in dragon runes. The first night was pleasant, and they camped in a clearing where they could look up at the stars. Orbital lay on his side, exhausted from all the walking. Kite sat next to him, his back against a boulder, watching Hillary set up camp. His curiosity was piqued by the way she would reach up and gently touch the band that held the patch over her eye every once in a while.

"How'd that happen anyway?" he asked the third time she did it.

"Sparing accident," was the short reply. He stared at her. She laughed "Don't look so surprised." She pulled back her cloak, revealing the sword she carried. "I've been practicing for years." She settled down on her makeshift bed and stared up at the starry sky. "I was challenged by a bully in our village when I was about eight," she said. "He was a creep. You know the type- because they're so much bigger than everyone else, they have the right the push you around. He challenged me because I told him to leave someone he was threatening alone. He thought he could easily beat a little girl." She grinned. "I wiped the ground with him. Of course, he wasn't going to let that slide. He came at me when I wasn't prepared- after our duel was officially over. One of the onlookers shouted a warning to me, and I managed to prevent his sword from running me through. But the tip of it got me." She reached up to feel the patch over her left eye. "I didn't lose it, but the damage was bad enough that the healer had to sew it shut. I wear the eye patch so that people don't have to see its mangled form."

There was a long period of silence. Finally Kite asked quietly, "What happened to the bully?"

Hillary shrugged. "We ran him out of town. No one had patience for a man who would attack a little girl. I don't know what became of him, but I hope he learned his lesson."

She sighed. "Time to turn in. Goodnight, Kite."

"Goodnight, Hillary."

By the next afternoon, they had reached the cave that Hillary had described. "So what's the next step?" Kite asked. "Sit and have a picnic while we wait for something to happen?"

Hillary shook her head, laughing. "Not at all. Take out the Photon Sword." Kite did as she said, holding the blade carefully in his right hand. It was the most maneuverable weapon he'd ever handled, almost like it had a mind of its own. "Grab the top of the hilt," she instructed, "And unscrew it."

He looked at her like she had suddenly sprouted a second head or two. "What?"

"Unscrew it." Hesitantly, the Prince began twisting the decorative top of the hilt. To his amazement, it came loose, and he pulled a thin metal tube, with various holes in it, like a flute, out of the hollow handle. Attached to it was a thick cord, in a coil so it would fit in the small hiding place.

"Interesting," Kite said. "What's it for?"

"Swing it over your head and you'll find out," his increasingly annoying traveling partner told him.

 _This is ridiculous,_ Kite thought, but he once again did as Hillary told him, extending the cord and beginning to swing the metal tube around in a loop above his head. The result was so startling he almost let go of the string. A hollow, echoing sound was coming from the air passing through the holes in the flute-like structure. _So this is how it works,_ Kite realized. _This is how my ancestor would call the Galaxy-Eyes when she needed him. And this is why Hillary's ancestors had to keep this sword hidden. The dragon wouldn't have known if it was an enemy or a friend calling him._

Minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Kite's arm grew numb from the repeated action. But he didn't allow himself to stop. The sun was gone, leaving only an orange glow over the hills, when it happened. The ground began to shake, a blinding light filled Kite's vision, and a mighty roar resounded through the air. When the Tenjonian Prince opened his eyes (Having shut them to protect his sight) the Galaxy-Eyes was there, standing only a few feet from him. Kite's heart almost stopped. This feeling… it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It was as if he was being reunited with a long-lost friend long presumed dead. The beast was…perfect. Glowing brightly, his eyes trained on Kite, the beast stood strong and mighty, studying the boy before him.

Slowly, moving as if in a dream, Kite reached out a hand to the creature he had heard so much about, just as his ancestor had so long ago. His fingertips landed on the dragon's nose, and a burning sensation flew through them, whether from heat or cold, he couldn't tell. The feeling spread all through his body, giving him a kind of elation he'd never felt before. _So this is what it's like to… connect with something._

The Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon apparently felt the same way, because he lifted his head and let out a roar that rattled the Photon Hills like marbles. And then the transformation began…

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **There are two parts to this legend.**


	14. Legend of the Galaxy-Eyes, part 2

"How much farther do we have to go, Jinlon?" Mizar asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his bare arm. The other was now covered in bracelets that served as both decoration and armor. He was a man now that he was twelve and had started dressing as such.

"You should not be so out of breath, young one," Jinlon said. "Look at me. I am an old man, yet in better shape than you."

"It's not because I'm out of shape, it's the higher elevation and lack of oxygen," Mizar huffed. "You're a dragon, so it doesn't affect you as much."

Jinlon chuckled. "True, true." He turned and continued up the mountain, and the yellow-haired boy pushed on after him. He had asked if it would not be more efficient for Jinlon to take his dragon form and for them to simply fly to their destination, but he had been told that the place they were going was not somewhere that could be flown to. So, that morning, he had put on sturdy shoes and a pack filled with provisions, said goodbye to Dumon, Girag, and Alito, and headed out with his teacher. He was beginning to wonder if this was a challenge to his manhood. Or if Jinlon simply wanted him to _think_ it was a challenge to make him keep going at top speed without complaining.

The two of them trudged along as the sun passed above them. It went overhead, and Mizar hoped they would stop for lunch, but Jinlon kept going. Hunger pains were attacking his stomach with ferocity before the dragon finally came to a stop. "Look," he said. "Look down there." Mizar wondered what he was talking about. He came forward to stand next to Jinlon and almost fell to his death. There was a ravine below him, the drop so steep it was invisible until you came upon it. No bottom was visible. It was hidden by the many jagged outcroppings that seemed to fit together like a puzzle when viewed from directly above. If definitely could not be flown to.

"This way," Jinlon said, turning around and lowering himself into the ravine like one would climb down a ladder. The climb was difficult, and Mizar's hands were more than just a bit scratched up by the time they finally reached the level Jinlon was aiming for. There was an entrance to a cave there, a cave that went into that wall of the ravine who knew how far. "Take out those torches I had you pack," the dragon said, quickly changing into his true shape. Seeing what he meant to do, Mizar quickly tool them out and held them up to his teacher and friend.

Not many people know this, but there are different types of dragon fire. There's the fiery inferno that, if unleashed, would have killed Mizar on the spot, and then there is the softer, much cooler fire that can be used to light campfires and such. This was the fire Dragluon used to light the two torches. The he transformed back into Jinlon, took one of them, and led the way into the mouth of the cavern.

"Do you know the legend of the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon, Mizar? The one for which these mountains are named?"

Mizar nodded. He knew from the tone of his teacher's voice that he was expected to explain the tale. "The Tachyon Mountains were originally called the Western Mountains. Criminals were usually exiled there from the other countries of Baria. It was a land filled with chaos. There was no order, and no one was safe. Finally, the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon, who had lived here long before the humans, got fed up with their stupidity and decided to do something about it. So, he sought out the noblest warrior he could and taught him the ways of the dragons. Together, they established order and made the Tachyon Mountains feared and respected by the other Barian countries.

"The warrior became the first Chieftain of the Clans, and all Chieftains since have been appointed by their predecessor. They usually chose their candidates from among the Clan leaders, which is how Chief Somatun became our leader."

Jinlon nodded. "Very good, young one. But what eventually happened to the Galaxy-Eyes?"

"Well, he didn't like being around so many people all the time, so he retreated back to the highest peaks in the mountains, where he would be left in peace. But he has emerged several times in the past to help keep the peace."

"Yes. And every time another chapter is added to the story of the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon, it is depicted here," Jinlon had stopped walking through the cave, and now he held up his torch to reveal the long, long walls of a large stone room, all of them bearing pictures that depicted the Tachyon Dragon's many legendary battles.

"Wow," Mizar breathed. "Who painted all these?"

"Why, the shape-shifting dragons, of course," Jinlon said, smiling. "we're the only ones who know about this place."

Mizar turned to him, the thrill of being in such a place fading as his confusion took over. "Then why did you bring me here?"

Jinlon suddenly turned to him, almost making him step back. The old man's sharp brown eyes burned with intensity as he watched his student. "Domitian's conquests are perhaps the greatest threat the Tachyon Mountains have ever faced. Why do you think the great Galaxy-Eyes has not yet shown himself?"

Mizar shrugged. "All the people are asking themselves the same question. Some say we are not deserving of his help this time. Others say he does not intend to help countries who have no respect for him."

"But what do _you_ say?" Jinlon asked, getting impatient.

"I don't know," Mizar said, not far from exasperated himself. "Maybe he wants to see how we handle the situation ourselves first."

The ferocity in Jinlon's eyes faded visibly. "Exactly," he said. "The Galaxy-Eyes is tired of always stepping into save those foolish humans. I think he is waiting for you to take the initiative. He is waiting for someone with the courage to call him forth."

"Call him?" Mizar was stunned. "But, with all due respect, Jinlon, you can't just _call_ the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon. What are you supposed to do, go to the top of a mountain and shout?"

" _I'm_ not supposed to do anything," Jinlon said. "But _you,_ Mizar, _you_ can do plenty. You are human, but you are also different. When I first took you in, I sensed it- a noble spirit within you, someone worthy of living among the dragons. Why do you think I have taken such care in training you? You have a gift, young one, that comes about only once in every several generations. If there is anyone who the Tachyon Dragon will respond to, it is you. That is why I gave you the key to finding him."

Mizar just stared at him, almost in shock. How could he be the one the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon would come to? And what did Jinlon mean, he'd "given him the key?" The only thing the dragon had ever given his student was… "My sword!" the blonde gasped, his hand going to the blade by his side.

Jinlon smiled at him, having known he would figure it out quickly. "Yes. The sword I gave you for your tenth rain passing is called the Tachyon Blade, Mizar. Few know of its existence. I gave it to you because of what I sensed in you. It was forged by the fire of the Tachyon Dragon itself, and it is said only a true Galaxy-Eyes master can wield it. You have been using it for two rains now. That fact only proves what I have suspected about you for a long time."

"But I can't be a Galaxy-Eyes master!"

"You doubt the prophecy?"

"No, of course not. It's just…" It was just what? Hadn't Mizar always felt a connection with dragons he'd never had with other humans? Why couldn't he be a Galaxy-Eyes master? Deep down, that was what he had always hoped for.

"Alright," he said. "If what you say is true, then I will do the best I can. You said the Tachyon Blade is the key to calling the Galaxy-Eyes. So, how does that work?"

"That…I don't know."

Mizar deadpanned. "You don't know?" He asked. "You bring me all the way up here to get me to do something, and you have no idea what it is?"

"You can't expect me to know everything," Jinlon said defensively.

Mizar sighed. "Alright, let's think about this. You said this sword is the key to summoning the Galaxy-Eyes. Maybe it slides into a hole in the rock around here, like a key." Holding up his torch to illuminate the walls, Mizar searched the cave drawings for anything that would give him a clue. He stopped when he came to a picture he didn't understand.

"What's this, Jinlon?" He asked. Jinlon came to join him and studied the image Mizar was looking at. It depicted two beams of light coming up from somewhere and joining together, and in their midst was a huge, long, golden dragon. "That's not the Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon," Mizar said, pointing at the dragon in the painting.

Jinlon stroked his beard. "Quite right, young one, quite right. That is a dragon that no one has ever laid eyes upon. Its power far exceeds that of the Galaxy-Eyes. That is the Numeron Dragon."

"The Numeron Dragon?" Kite had never heard of such a thing.

"Yes. It is a legend long told among the dragons. The Numeron Dragon is the most powerful Dragon that ever lived. He was born at the dawn of time. The Numeron Dragon long since passed beyond this world, but its power can still be summoned by the 'joining of two powers so different, and yet the same.' No one has been able to figure out what that means."

Mizar studied the drawing, mulling over the riddle. As he did so, his armored hand went down to play with the hilt of the Tachyon Blade. It was made very uniquely of gold and was covered with rubies and topazes. As he fiddled with it, the top of the hilt suddenly came loose.

"Jinlon!" The boy cried in alarm, unsheathing the blade to get a better look at it. He examined the hilt while Jinlon held both lights for him to see. "The top of the hilt…" Mizar muttered. "It unscrews." Slowly, he pulled out a metal tube with several holes in the side and a cord attached to it. "Well, what do you suppose this is for?" he asked.

"That could be it, Mizar!" That could be the key!"

"But how?" the blonde studied the tube, trying to figure out how to use it. "It looks like a flute, but there's no place to put your mouth to blow… Wait, that's it! Air! If you can't blow the air through the tube, you have to get it from somewhere else!"

As quickly as he could, Mizar headed back to the entrance of the cave, the metal tube clutched tightly in his hand. "You could share your findings with an old man, you know!" Jinlon complained from behind him. Mizar reached the cave's entrance and uncoiled the string that he know knew how to use. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, he swung the device around and around his head. As he had expected, a hollow, echoing tune resounded throughout the ravine. Mizar grinned. "The key to calling the Galaxy-Eyes," he said.

Time didn't matter. Mizar wasn't sure how long he stood there, creating the calling notes with his turning arm. The limb grew numb, Mizar's eyes hurt from peering so intently out at the horizon, watching for anything that would tell him whether or not it was working. The sky grew darker and darker as the sun sank to his left. Jinlon thought about saying something several times, but he could never think of the right words.

Finally, it happened. There was a rush of wings, a great roar, and then… The Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon stood before them. He was huge and black, with glowing red eyes. He studied Mizar, who had dropped the summoning flute in surprise.

 _So you are the one who summoned me,_ the dragon said. Mizar nodded, too stunned to speak. _Why?_

"Well, uh…" _Pull it together!_ "Our people are threatened by Domitian, the treacherous Astranian Emperor. We need your power to protect us."

 _At last! A human with a heart of courage!_ The Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon threw back his head and roared so loudly the Mountains themselves shook on their foundations. Mizar felt something stir within him, a kind of…joy that he'd never felt before.

Suddenly, before Mizar's and Jinlon's eyes, he began changing. His color went from black to gold, he became larger, and he grew two extra heads.

 _At last! The power of the Neo-Galaxy-Eyes has been unleashed!_

Jinlon gasped. "The Neo-Galaxy Eyes! It is said that only an incredibly powerful Galaxy-Eyes master can summon it! No one thought that day would come in our lifetime."

Mizar barely heard him. He was too caught up in the glorious dragon that stood before him. _This,_ he thought, _this is what I was born for._

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves**_ **: The time has come for a decision to be made.**


	15. A Mature Decision

Prince Christopher walked down the long, fancy corridor towards his father's personal chambers. His father had asked to speak with him personally, and Chris had a gut feeling telling him what it was about. He'd been home for six months now, having left Tsukamo in the middle of Queen Dextra's visit last spring.

He had expected things to be a bit different, but the biggest surprise when he'd returned was Rio's change in attitude. She'd turned eleven in June and was no longer the little girl trey's brought home from the slave market- could it have really been three years ago? He had greeted her the same way he had his brothers. After all, she seemed like a member of the family. She, Iris, and his brothers had grown much taller in his absence, he'd noted teasingly. Rio's return greeting had been cool, to say the least. Chris was unsettled by how much time the sisters spent alone now, instead of playing with Quattro and Trey as they had used to.

After conferring with his brothers, Quinton had learned that this had been going on for a year now. It had started in the middle of July last year, when they had been visiting Tenjo. Quattro had explained the Heartland incident, as it had come to be called, to his older brother hoping that the older teen might be able to shed some light on his friend's strange behavior. As far as the silver-haired brother could tell, the only explanation for Rio's withdrawn behavior was that she felt guilty for what had happened between the Barians and the Heartlanders in the past.

"Just make sure she knows she's still your friend," Quinton had told his siblings. "Even if she is a Barian." That had been months ago, around Rio's birthday, and though Quattro and Trey had tried their hardest, her moodiness had only slightly lifted. Chris sighed. It was just one problem after another these days.

He reached his father's room and knocked. "Come in," the King's strong voice called from the other side. Chris opened the large ornate oak doors and stepped inside, closing it behind him. King Byron's sitting room was cozy, with an air of familiarity. Chris smiled, remembering the family gatherings that had once been held here, in his mother's days. His father's favorite portrait of the late Queen was hanging above the fire place in this room, and Chris gazed up at it, into the fiery red eyes that were so much like Quattro's.

 _Oh, mother, I wish you were here to tell me what you think of Kari and what I should do._

"Ah, son, good to see you," King Byron said, drawing his eldest attention to him. "Sit down. We have quite a lot to discuss." Chris did as he asked and waited for him to begin. King Byron took a deep breath. "Christopher, you turned 17 this past January. That means that you are of marriageable age. Princess Kari just turned 16 in February. Therefore, by next spring, you will be able to marry her. Our people will expect an answer to the question they've been asking themselves for years, now. What do you think, son? Will you ask her to marry you, or not?"

Chris sat silently for a long time. He had known this question was going to come up. He just wished it hadn't come up so soon. Finally he said, "I won't make a decision for Kari. If we are to be married, we will do it on a basis of equality. I want to speak to her on the matter first."

His father nodded. "I expected you to say as much. That's why I've invited her here. Traveling over land, it will take her approximately a week to reach us. Use that time wisely, son. Think about both your futures- and the future of your country." He sighed sadly. "I wish I didn't have to put this burden on you, son. But there is a threat against us- a powerful threat. Lord Faker and Emperor Kazuma have both felt it, as have I."

Chris nodded. "I've noticed it, too. A dark cloud descending on us."

"Then you know that it is important to be as strong as possible in the face of this danger."

"I know."

When Kari arrived, it was without any of her family members, adding to the business-like mood of the whole affair. The only person who did come with her was her handmaiden, Brianna Stone. Neither of the royals wasted time. Brianna was still unpacking when they entered the library together and sat down to discuss their predicament. Chris explained everything his father and him had talked about, then waited for her to say something. When the silence dragged on too long, he asked,

"So, what do you think?"

She turned to him, almost exasperated. "What do I think? It's only natural that we should have feelings for each other. You're the only teenage boy I've been allowed intimate contact with, and the same is true for you with me. Maybe in some other time, in some other place, we could have met someone else to fall for, but as things are, we've been pushed into this relationship. On a purely political level, it's a very good match." She took a deep breath. "The question is, are we able to do this to ourselves, even knowing the political advantages?"

"I've had the same thoughts," Chris admitted. "And I admit, I think I will be very happy with you as my wife. You are independent, free-willed, but not reckless. You're my good friend, Kari. Like you said, I haven't been allowed to have intimate contact with other girls. Is what we have love? I don't know. And I don't think we're ever going to have the chance to find out. In our situation, I think being friends with your spouse is as good as you can hope for. And, considering the political advantages, as you called them, I think the best thing to do is go ahead with this proposal and marriage. Maybe, someday, we will end up loving each other. But we can't wait until someday."

Kari nodded. "I think you as a good friend, too, Chris, and I can be happy with you as my husband. For the good of our countries, I am willing to give up the chance to find the passionate love you find in story books. I, too, think the best choice is to go ahead with the marriage."

There was silence for a long time. Finally, Chris said, "How would you like to do it? In private, or in public?"

"We're royalty, Chris. Our engagement isn't going to be private. We'll tell out families ahead of time, of course, but the official announcement should be made at an event. A ball, perhaps. And I expect a proper proposal."

Chris smiled. "Of course."

Neither of the two royals was aware that their conversation had been overheard. Just as she had been that day long before, Rio had been dusting the Library when Chris had walked in. She'd quickly hidden herself among the books upon seeing him with Princess Kari, but she couldn't help overhearing what they were talking about.

 _Would I be willing to do what they're going to?_ She wondered. She was a Princess, too. _No,_ she decided. _I want real love. Love like Westley and Buttercup had in_ The Princess Bride. _Quinton is foolish to always be thinking with his head._ Then she almost laughed. Who was she to talk? Like Quinton, she would never have the chance to be or have what she truly wanted. She was a slave, nothing more.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves**_ **: In Astrania, Prince Vector decides to do something nice for his slave to celebrate the anniversary of their friendship.**


	16. Old Friends

Shark stared out the small windows of his master's bedroom, deep in his own thoughts. The trees were empty of leaves now, and bitter, cold winds were almost always present. It would be sugaring time in the fields; Marya and the others would be shut inside the sugaring houses, in the boiling heat, perfecting sugar they would never be able to enjoy. It had been almost two years since he had become Vector's personal slave, and he wondered constantly how Weasel and Marya were doing. Did they have enough to eat? Were they warm enough in their barracks now that it was the cold season? And, most importantly, had Marya's identity as a girl been discovered? Shark had fallen into the routine of palace slave life, and this familiarity had left him restless, freeing his mind to worry.

"Shark! Earth to Shark!"

"What?" The purplette was pulled out of his musings by Vector's voice.

"I was just telling you how I finished translating another section into Salkie. Listen," the carrot-head began reading- in slow, over-pronounced Salkie- a section of _The Princess Bride._

" _But Westley, as the lever moved, took his brain away, and when the Machine began, Westley was stroking her autumn-colored hair and touching her skin of wintry cream and- and- and then his world exploded- because the cups, the cups were everywhere, and before, they had punished his body but left his brain, only not the Machine; the Machine reached everywhere- his eyes were not his to control and his ears could not hear her gentle loving whisper and his brain slid away, slid far from love into the deep fault of despair, hit hard, fell again, down through the house of agony into the country of pain. Inside and out, Westley's world was ripping apart and he could do nothing but crack along with it."_

Vector looked up expectantly. "Well? How'd I do?"

Shark gave him a small smile. "It's good," he said. "Oh." The Astranian Prince had been hoping for more than that. There was silence for a little while, but Vector's good mood soon rebounded.

"Hey, Shark, I've been thinking. We should have a party- to celebrate. I hope you didn't forget. At the end of the hot season, it had been two goings and comings of the rains since we met. And, at the end of the cold season, when I turn 11, it'll be the same amount of time since you came to be my slave permanently. Since we're right in the middle of those two important dates, we should celebrate them both now."

If Vector had brought this up at any other time, he might have gotten a different reaction. However, Shark had been worrying about his friends just then, and he had always been just a little bit exasperated with Vector's ignorance and happy personality, and at that particular moment, it boiled over.

"Celebrate what?" He demanded. "Me becoming one of your many possessions?"

Vector was taken aback. "You know that's not how it wor-"

"It's not, is it? What was that you just said? 'I became your personal slave permanently?' Am I supposed to be grateful to you enough to want to celebrate that?"

"I saved you from the misery of the fields!" Vector cried. "Of course you should be grateful!"

Shark laughed bitterly. "Is that how you see it? You really think everybody is here just to please you. You never asked me if I wanted to leave the fields; you never considered the fact that I might have friends there that I was ripped away from and now have no idea whether they're alive or dead! You say you want me to be your friend, but one of the things friendship is built on is equality- something that can't exist between us as long as I'm your slave."

Now, Vector would always regret what he said next, because he didn't really mean any of it. But having been raised- in the loosest sense of the word- by Emperor Domitian, and not used to being spoken to in such a manner (he was the crown prince, after all), his next statements weren't really that shocking.

"That's right; you are my slave! Therefore you should treat me with more respect, as well as be grateful to me for treating you so well. I could very well have you flogged for such…rudeness!"

Shark glared at him. "You think you're better than me because you're a crown prince? I have news for you, _your highness,_ I-" Shark clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified at what he had almost done. _I am the crown prince of the United Lands, the son of Emperor Ralphenom!_ He'd almost given away his mostly closely guarded secret.

Vector assumed Shark had stopped talking for very different reasons. "I'm glad to see you finally realized the full atrocity of what you've been saying. Now get out of my sight! I'll deal with you later." Without another word, Shark turned and disappeared into the small alcove that was his room.

By the time Kylie returned with the lunch she had been sent to fetch, Vector was almost hysterical. He was sitting on his bed, tangled up in his sheets, clutching a silk pillow and sobbing into it.

"Lord Vector!" the greenette cried in astonishment, setting the tray of food down and quickly going to his side. "What's the matter? What happened?"

"Oh Kylie," Vector wailed. "I've done something t-terrible. I-I called Shark m-my slave and I threatened to flog him and I-I-oh, what's wrong wi-with me?"

Kylie's whose hand had automatically gone to the Prince's back to rub in large circles, attempting to sooth him, stared at him, stunned. "You…said what?"

Vector didn't hear her. "What if I end up just like my father? What if I start liking to hurt people? It could happen. I could-"

"No!" Kylie said fiercely. She turned the hysterical boy to face her. "No. You never could I know you, Vector, and you could never be the type of man your father is."

"Are you s-s-sure?" the prince hiccupped.

"I'm sure. Now, tell me everything that happened." So, while the food sat and got cold, Vector explained the argument that he and Shark had had. "He's right," he said when he was done. "I haven't treated him like a person very much. Kylie, have I treated you that badly? Just demanding things from you without considering your feelings?"

The Heartlandish woman thought for a moment. "Yes, you have," She said slowly, "But I don't blame you for it. It's how you were raised."

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder to not be a whiny brat anymore. Really, I will."

"It's not me you need to apologize to, your highness," Kylie said gently. "It's Shark whom you have hurt."

Shark had retreated to his room after Vector had dismissed him and immediately taken out the scrap of cloth that was wrapped around the locks of his sister's hair he had. He had quickly found an equally secret hiding place to his old one in his new living quarters, for which he was extremely grateful. Now, his fingers traced the locks of hair, which were beginning to fall about and were no longer very soft or smooth. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he had to blink for quite a while to hold them back.

 _Marin…Iris…where are you? Are you safe? Do you remember me? Your brother Shar-_ He stopped his trail of thought. His sisters had never called his Shark. They knew his real name.

His mind remained blank.

Panic surged through him. _My name!_ He thought, _what's my name?_

 _Nash._ There it was. He relaxed. It was still there; his preconscious just took longer than it had before to conjure it up. He gave a long sigh. Three and a half rains. It had been three and a half rains since he'd been captured, enslaved, and given the name Shark. It had been Heartland's idea, he remembered. He wondered what had become of that weasel.

A knock startled him out of his thoughts, and he quickly hid his secret under his pillow before asking, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Shark. Vector." As if Shark could have forgotten what his voice sounded like in such a short amount of time.

"Come on in." Vector pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the alcove. If Shark had had any anger left about that morning's events, it faded upon seeing the evident anxiety in Vector's face.

"Shark, I-I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For- everything I said. I really didn't see you as just my property, but you were right about me not considering your feelings. I only thought about what I wanted when I brought you here- a friend, a boy my own age to talk to. And I've been happier since you came than any other time I can remember. Anyway, I thought about what you said, and I- I want to make it possible for you to see your friends again. I was thinking…we could bring them here- if they were okay with that, I mean," He added hastily, "And you'd always be able to know how they were doing, and- well, that's it really." Vector stopped and waited, watching Shark nervously for a reaction.

After a moment, the purplette motioned his forward. "Come here." Apprehensively, Vector slid one foot in front of the other. "I'm not going to hit you," Shark said, rolling his eyes. The prince came and sat down next to him, his hands folded in his lap. Slowly, Shark pulled his secret from underneath his pillow and unwrapped it, showing his two most precious possessions to the first person to see them since Marya. "These are locks of hair from my sisters," he said sadly.

"Oh, we can bring your sisters here, too," Vector said quickly.

Shark shook his head. "I don't know where they are," he whispered. "I haven't known for a long time."

"I'm sorry."

"Vector, you're the only person I've shown these to besides my best friend from the fields. His name is Tiger. My other friend is a guard named Weasel." He once again hid the locks of hair and then turned towards Vector, who was staring at him incredulously. "What?"

"So, you're Shark, and your friends are Tiger and Weasel? Do all the people from the fields have animal-based names, or is that sort of a trademark reserved to your group?"

"Uh…I wouldn't call it a trademark, exactly…Just coincidence." Vector looked doubtful, but Shark didn't let him ask any more questions. "Thank you for letting me see them again. And…for being my friend. I'm sorry for what I said, too. I know you only meant well."

"Thanks Shark," the ginger-haired boy said, smiling. "Thanks so much."

* * *

Marya trudged along besides Weasel, keeping her head down. Her heart was hammering against her chest. That morning, she and Weasel had been informed that they were being moved to the palace. Marya wasn't sure what to think. What if she was discovered as a girl? This was a daily worry to both her and Weasel. As a guard, Weasel managed to get scissors for her every once and a while, when her hair began to get long. They had begun gathering strips of sturdy cloth, for the inevitable time when she would start developing. She would need those cloths to make sure her chest continued looking flat and boyish. Marya knew a bit about maturing into womanhood from her sister Lanu. The day she had first started bleeding from the inside had been terrifying…until she remembered it happening to Lanu. She had figured out how to wrap cloth between her legs every time it happened to stop stains from spreading.

But now, their careful plans were falling apart. Of course, both of them had considered the possibility that they had been found out, and instead of being taken to work at the palace, they were going there to die, or worse.

Upon arriving, they were taken immediately into a large, stone room, surrounded by pillars. After being told gruffly to "Wait here," the two frightened newcomers were left alone.

"What do you think is going on?"

"I have no idea. Emperor Domitian is still away at war, but I doubt his governors will be any more lenient than he would be."

"Don't look so worried, you too. It makes me feel guilty." Both Marya and Weasel whirled around, looking for the sound of the voice. Then, out of the shadows, stepped a figure they had never expected to see again.

"Shark?" Marya asked uncertainly. He nodded, and then the two of them were in each other's arms. "Shark! It's you!"

"Yeah. Sorry for scaring you like that."

"But how? I mean…wow. You look…great." She really meant it. The last time she had seen Shark, he had been thin and dirty, his hair bedraggled and filthy. Now, he was taller, dressed in fine linens and his hair smoothly combed. "I kept your locket," She said, when she couldn't think of anything else to say. She pulled it out and showed it to him, the platinum gleaming in the dim light. "Do you want it back?"

"No. You keep it. To remind you of me."

"Eh-hem," someone behind them said.

"Weasel! How are you doing?"

"I'm well, thank you, Shark. I took your advice and was as sneaky as a weasel as I could be. It sure came in handy. Right, Marya?"

Marya's face went ashen. "Shhh!" she hissed.

"Whoops. Sorry," Weasel said guiltily.

"It's alright," Shark told them. "Marya, you don't have to be Tiger anymore." He turned towards the door. "You can come in now, Vector." Shyly, the ginger-head came into the room, his eyes fliting back and forth between the Shark's two friends. "Marya, Weasel, this is my Master, Prince Vector of Astrania."

Vector's face turned red. "Geez, you didn't have to introduce me like _that._ "

Shark continued talking, ignoring him. "He's the one who made it possible for you to come and stay here, instead of in the fields. He offered to do it when I told him about you."

"Really?" Marya asked. "Stay here? With you? As a girl?"

"Sure!" Vector said, grinning. "Shark told me all about your disguised-as-a-boy-scheme. I thought that type of things only happened in books. But, you don't have to pretend to be a boy here. Of course, you can't be my personal slave, because you're a girl my own age, but we can find you a job that would allow you to see Shark as often as you want." He turned to Weasel. "And you've been assigned to my personal guard, so you'll be able to see him as much as you want, too. Also, your salary increases, because being a personal guard to the prince is more important than being a field guard."

"Wow," was all Weasel could think to say.

Marya slipped her hand into Shark's and leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling really secure for the first time since he had left. She didn't notice the faint blush that graced Shark's cheeks.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **The free people of Baria will not stand by and become enslaved to Emperor Domitian. His acts of treason warrant war!**


	17. Sparks of Rebellion

Mizar practically sprinted through the corridors of the mountain, hurrying to Chief Somatun's chambers. The cold season had been hard this time around, and the Chief had been ill on and off for several moons. Kinjuigdui had tended him sunup and sundown, but the healer's cures weren't having much effect. It was very possible that the leader of the clans in the Tachyon Mountains would soon pass on, and a new leader would have to be chosen. The clan leaders had been discussing this to great length. A new leader of Somatun's clan had been chosen, but all of the clans had to agree on who would be their next leader, and they would want someone with experience, not a newly appointed clan chief. For this reason, Mizar was confused about why the elderly Chief had called him to his bedside at this time. Shouldn't he be offering advice on who he thought would best secede him? However, he knew better than to disobey the man's request, and so he hurried to him as fast as he could.

When he arrived, Kinjuigdui and the other healers, as well as all the clan leaders and Jinlon, were gathered around the elderly man's bed, murmuring in low voices. Following respectful custom, Mizar waited for someone to notice him before venturing beyond the doorway. Jinlon's sharp yes quickly picked up his form.

"Ah, Mizar. Come in, come in." Jinlon got up and pulled the boy forward to the Chief's bedside. "Here he is, sir, the boy I told you about."

Nervously Mizar stood before the leader of all the Tachyon Clans with his head bowed with respect. So Jinlon had told Somatun about him. But why?

"I have heard a great deal about you, Mizar," the Chief said, his voice still powerful despite his weakened state. "You have achieved something that no Dragon Tamer in recorded history ever has. You now command the Neo Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon." He paused for a moment, regathering his strength. "The fact that this has happened at this time of desperation cannot be a coincidence. That is why I am choosing you to be my successor." There were gasps around the room, followed by mixed protests.

"He is only a boy!"

"How can we trust him to lead us?"

"He is a man now," Jinlon said sternly. "The bracelet on his arm is proof of that."

"The old ways are not going to save us this time," Somatun said. "We must entrust our future to the younger generation. Perhaps they can see what we cannot." The Clan leaders shifted uncomfortably. They knew what the Chief said was true, but the idea of taking orders from a boy of twelve… "What do you say, Mizar? Will you lead them?"

Mizar stared at Chief Somatun, unable to form coherent words. Him? Lead the people of the Tachyon Mountains? Could he do it? Sudden coughing racked Chief Somatun's body. Kinjuigdui rushed forward with an herbal tea, trying to coax the elderly man to drink.

When he could speak again, Somatun reached for Mizar's hand. "Please, Mizar. Help us to stop Domitian."

Mizar nodded quickly. "Yes," he said, swallowing down a lump of fear. "Yes, I'll help you. I will help you stop him."

The Chief smiled. "Thank you." His eyes closed. For a long time, all anyone could hear was his breathing, getting slower and slower, until it finally stopped. The old and withered hand went limp in Mizar's grasp. It was only then he felt the wetness of tears on his cheeks.

Mizar walked with the clan leaders to the main chamber in a daze. Chief Somatun was dead. He was the new leader. He stood at the front of the great cavern, feeling out on place among the clan leaders. Ashfuis, the new Chief of Somatun's clan, stepped forward and raised his hand for silence.

"People of the Tachyon Mountains," he said gravely, "and all those who are with us at this time. Chief Somatun has passed on. He has chosen this warrior, Mizar, the Galaxy-Eyes master, as his successor. Leaders of the clans," he turned to face the individuals lined up behind him. "Do we accept him?"

 _Of course,_ Mizar thought. _Just because Somatun chose me doesn't mean the clans have to agree with him._

For long, agonizing moments, there was silence. Then, Nhrfjinmuse, the oldest of the clan chiefs and the most respected, stepped forward. "If you will lead us," he said, drawing his sword, "I will follow." He laid the weapon at Mizar's feet and stepped back, his piercing eyes flitting to his companions. Arya, the only female Chief, came forward next and also laid her sword at his feet, repeating Nhrfjinmuse's words. One by one, all of the clan leaders followed, until thirteen swords lay, one on top of the other, in front of the young Dragon Tamer's feet. Finally, Ashfuis stepped forward and also gave up his weapon.

"If you will lead us, I too will follow. Mizar felt as though he was dreaming. Was this really happening?

"The Clan Chiefs have chosen unanimously!" Nhrfjinmuse announced. "People of the Tachyon Mountains- do you agree with them?" At first, the assent was soft and scattered, but it gradually grew in volume and momentum, sweeping the cavern like a great wave.

"Long live Chief Mizar, the Galaxy-Eyes master!" The cry went up, echoing off the stone walls.

Ashfuis gestured Mizar forward. "They're your people now. Lead them well."

Mizar stepped forward, and almost immediately the noise died away as the people waited for their new leader to speak. "People of the Tachyon Mountains," he began, fiddling nervously with the hilt of the Tachyon Blade. "And all those with us at this time," he added, noticing Dumon, Girag, and Alito in the back with the other refuges. "The threat of Emperor Domitian is unlike anything this Empire has ever faced before." _Don't say that. They know that._ "In order to combat this threat, we must…" _I wish I had had time to think this through._ "We must fight in a way that is unlike any strategy or tactic ever used in Baria's history. The power of the Neo Galaxy-Eyes will help us."

He stopped wondering what to say next. "I do not pretend to know everything," he said at last. "Which is why I will rely on the help of the Clan leaders," he nodded to the people standing behind him, "and…" inspiration struck him, "and my very good friends, Dumon of Drachelm, Alito of Sparta, and Girag of Widehan-yosae!" He gestured the three boys forward. Dumon and Girag looked uncertain, but Alito bounded forward like an excited monkey.

"Look around you," Mizar said, getting excited. "There are people here from every country in the Barian Empire, even Astrania! We will all work together to fight this threat. We must think outside the box." He turned towards his friends who stood beside him. "I am appointing Dumon, Alito, and Girag as my Generals. Anything said to them gets directly related back to me. Domitian attacked each of our countries separately, but we will come at him all at once. We will fight together, and we will fight every way but the way the enemy expects us to!"

Cheers erupted in the cavern, not only for Mizar, but for Dumon, Alito, and Girag as well. "Do you really think we can do this? Dumon asked, remembering the screams of his people as the Astranians destroyed them.

"We _have_ to do this," Mizar said, and his friend knew he was right. Watching the scene, Jinlon's eyes sparkled. If anyone could stop Domitian, it was those boys.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves**_ **: Disaster strikes Arclight.**


	18. Fire!

Spring had come to Arclight again, and it was especially warm this year. Quinton said it had something to do with the earth's rotation around the sun always varying slightly and the atmosphere, but Quattro and Trey had decided that it was because of the level of excitement in the air. In February, On Valentine's Day, a ball had been hosted at the palace. Chris and Kari had danced several times together, and after their fourth waltz, he had dropped to one knee, pulled out a ring, and proposed. Of course, the families knew it was going to happen, but this made the engagement official and public. Also, it gave Kari the proper proposal she had wanted.

Now it was April, and the wedding would take place in three weeks. Quattro had, at first, been against the idea of his brother marrying, but when he found out his new sister-in-law would be moving in with them, instead of Chris leaving for Tsukamo, he had given them him blessing. Of course, after Kazuma's death, the couple would have to go back to Tsukamo to accept their titles as Emperor and Empress, but everyone was sure that was years into the future. Besides, Quattro couldn't really protest when he saw how much wedding planning cheered Rio up.

"I'll never know why," his father told him, "But such things seem to have quite an appeal to the female sex." For months, the palace had been full of florists, chefs, seamstresses, and decorators of all varieties. All the paper products- invitations, menus, place cards- had to match. What kind of cake did the bride and groom want? How many layers should it be? What type of flowers should go in the bouquet? How about the decorations? And, oh! The clothing choices! For the boys it wasn't all that hard, but the dresses that the bride and her attendants were going to wear had to be planned down to each individual stitch. Quattro got dizzy thinking about it.

Kari had asked Rio, Tori, and Cathy to be her bridesmaids, and Brianna to be her maid of honor. Iris was going to be the flower girl, the one thing that wasn't foreign to the Barian sisters. Yuma and Trey were going to share the job of ring bearer (even though they were technically too old) and Quattro would be best man. Today, however, he got to escape all that madness. He had talked Rio into going to the beach with him, since it was such a nice day, and since she was up to it again.

They were on their own today, except for the driver of the wagon. The Arclight royal family hadn't really had a wagon at their disposal before, but Quattro knew Rio preferred an open ride, when she could feel the wind in her hair, rather than riding in a closed box.

Arriving at the beach, Rio immediately took off her shoes and stockings and buried her feet in the sand, sighing contentedly. Quattro didn't find this as shocking as he used to- at least when Rio did it. He watched her hike her skirts above her knees and tie them expertly around her waist before heading to the water. She laughed as she sent streams of water up into the air and created little sprays as she kicked her feet.

"Come on in, Quattro, the water's wonderful!" She called, speaking in Arclightian. She had learned to speak it fluently over the past few years. He didn't need too much encouragement to join her. Soon they were both knee-deep in the ocean. They chased each other through the water, laughing and splashing each other. Inevitably, though, a chill set in, and the two were forced to abandon the waves for the sand. They spread out under the sun, content to let it dry them.

After a while, Quattro began, rather hesitantly, to question Rio on a subject that had long puzzled him. "Rio?"

"Yes?"

"What…what happened in Tenjo? Why did you suddenly become so…distant? Did someone do something to you?"

"You don't have to be worried about me, Quattro. I'm fine."

"But you're not!" Quattro said, rolling over and facing her. She turned her face away.

"I- I can't tell you."

"But why not? We're friends, aren't we? You said we were. Why can't you rust me anymore? You trusted me with the secret about your brother. What's so different about this?"

"I don't know!" She cried suddenly. "I- I just can't…talk about it, okay? Don't ask me to talk about it. And don't mention my brother. You don't understand anything about him. Besides, we can't really be friends, not so long as your father _owns_ me!"

Quattro was stunned. "You know he doesn't see it that way, and neither do we."

"It doesn't matter how you see it. What matters is how it is. I'm a Barian slave girl, and that will never change." He stared at her, the truth of what she said sinking in. She was property. She was being kept against her will. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Rio stared at the ocean, the wind blowing through her light blue bangs. Somewhere across that vast expanse of water was Nash. She looked down at the platinum band around her finger, remembering the last time she had seen him. _I will never leave your side._ She blinked back tears. In some distant place, he was slaving away for Emperor Domitian, being treated who knew how badly, and she was powerless to help him. "I need to go back," she said. "Please, Quattro, take me back. I can't stand it here anymore."

"Sure, Rio. Whatever you want." The wagon ride back was silent. Rio and the Prince sat opposite each other, wrapped in blankets, each looking anywhere but at the other. As they drew nearer to the palace, Rio became aware of a strange gray tint to the sky, and an odd smell in the air. Quattro wrinkled his nose. "It smells like something's burning."

Rio's eyes snapped towards the sky. "Something _is_ burning. Something big. Look at the sky. It's almost dark, but it's only late afternoon."

"But what?" Quattro asked. In answer to his question, the castle came into view, with huge, orange flames leaping out of several of the windows. People were gathered in the gardens, some of them with ash covering their faces, staring up at the burning palace. Men servants, guards, and men from the village were passing buckets of water to one another, trying to beat back the flames. Servants were still staggering outside, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces.

Both preteens leapt from the wagon and ran to where the people were gathering. Quattro headed straight for his father and brothers, who were standing, along with Kari, surrounded by guards. "Dad! Quinton! Trey! What's happening?"

Despite not being one of the people he had addressed, it was Kari who answered him. "Someone left a candle burning near the wedding clothes, and they caught fire. Before anyone realized what had happened, the fire had spread into a full section of the palace. I just barely managed to save the wedding dress." For the first time, Quattro noticed the white and lacy dress Kari clutched in her arms.

Just then, they heard a girl's voice calling out. "Your highness! Princess Kari! Where are you?"

"I'm over here, Brianna!" Kari called to her handmaiden. The black-haired teen appeared in front of them, coughing heavily. "Brianna!" Kari ran to her. "Are you alright? What took you so long?"

"I wanted to make sure everyone got out," she said, coughing. "But I think…I think there's one little girl still in there. The Barian girl with the green hair…"

"Iris!" Rio gasped. Quattro whirled around, not realizing she had come up behind him, just in time to see her turn on her heel and rush towards the palace.

"Rio!" He called desperately. "It's too dangerous!" His cries were in vain.

Rio didn't even hear him. _I've already lost my brother. I can't lose Iris too!_ She maneuvered her way through the palace halls, making her way towards the place where the wedding clothes were kept and ignoring the urges of the fleeing servants to turn back. Soon, she was alone among flames and smoke. "Iris!" She called in Salkie. "Iris it's me! Rio- Marin, your sister! Please, answer me!" Soon, the smoke grew too thick, an she had to drop to her knees in order to breathe. "Little sister… _cough, cough…_ where are you?"

"Rio?" a small voice called to her. "Where are you?"

"Just keep talking. I'll find you." She crawled through the smoke-filled passages, following her sister's voice, until finally locating a frightened green-haired girl in a smudged pink dress. "Iris!" she gasped in relief. "Thank goodness." Iris ran into her arms. As Rio held the smaller girl, she could feel the tremors racking her body. She tried to speak, but coughs racked her body and made it impossible. "Tell me when we're outside," Rio told her, grasping her hand and turning around to go back the way she'd come.

The sisters only made it a short way before Iris suddenly screamed in fright, as the curtains next to them burst into flame. There was a great creaking noise, and Rio had only enough time to shove the smaller girl out of the way before a flaming beam fell down between them, cutting Rio off from the exit.

"Marin!" Iris cried, terrified.

"Just go, Iris. I'll find some other way out where the flames haven't gotten yet."

"But-"

"Go!" Tears filling her crystalline blue eyes, Iris turned and ran for the exit. The ash burned her throat and eyes, and the heat was almost unbearable, but she finally emerged from the terrible nightmare. She stumbled outside, blinking in the sudden harsh light, and was immediately confronted by the King's middle son.

"Iris! Where's Rio? Why isn't she with you?"

"A beam… _cough…_ fell down and… _cough…_ blocked her way. She's still… _cough…_ in there."

"What?!" Quattro saw red. _She was still in there._ "Where?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

"In the south hall, with all the big windows with curtains." The Prince thought quickly. Rio wouldn't be able to come out this way, so she'd head for the nearest alternate exit. And that was the little door near the fountains. Without a word he took off on the narrow garden path, dashing through hedges and around flower beds, finally reaching the door sunken into the palace wall. He practically jumped the marble steps leading down to it, threw open the door, and was immediately hit with a wave of heat and smoke. Covering his mouth with his sleeve, he stepped inside, his eyes searching desperately for any sign of his friend.

Quattro's heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it might come right out of his chest, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Still, he continued searching. His eyes stung from the smoke, but at last he made out her form crumpled on the floor. She was lying face down, the flames feeding hungrily on her dress. With a burst of rage, Quattro rushed forward, beating at the flames furiously. _I won't let you take her. I won't let you take her!_ Grasping her arm, he struggled to pull her back the way he had come, back towards the garden door. _Come on, Rio, just a little farther._

Later, Quattro would never be able to describe exactly what happened. He was suddenly aware of a hot flash near him, and then there was nothing but the searing pain. He screamed and fell to his knees, clutching the right side of his face. For a few moments, there was nothing but pain, overwhelming pain that made it impossible to think of anything else. Then, though, through his haze, he saw Rio. There were horrible burns covering her; her hair was almost completely gone. He _had_ to save her. With renewed determination, he got to his feet, wrapping his one unoccupied arm around Rio's waist and bringing her up with him.

Quattro would never again be able to smell smoke and not think of that long, agonizing walk to the garden door. It was perhaps the most painful and terrifying moment of his life. Finally, he stumbled out the door, trying to breathe in great gulps of the fresh air and managing only to choke himself. He was dimly aware of people around him, all of them seeming to try and talk to him. He paid them no mind. There was only one thought he could focus on: _water._ Swatting away hands that reached for him, the Prince staggered forward, reaching out for the fountain in front of him. He lifted Rio up and over the side, and then fell in after her with a splash.

The cool liquid felt wonderfully soothing in his burning eye. He might have stayed there indefinitely, if it hadn't been for the hands that grabbed him, pulling him up out of the cold, refreshing fountain and back to the smoky haze of the gardens. Questions were fired at him as a towel was wrapped his shoulders.

"Rio," he choked out. "Take care of Rio." That was all he managed before the blackness took him.

 **Next time in** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Iris struggles to cope with her sister's serious injuries.**


	19. A Sister's Devotion

"Only one of my eyes was damaged, doctor," Quattro grumbled. "Why do you have to bandage both of them?"

"I don't want you to strain your left eye while your right one recovers," Dr. McNeil said patiently. Quattro wasn't going to lose his sight, thank goodness. His eyes had closed instinctively on seeing the flames coming at him, and the burn itself wasn't deep- which was why it had hurt so badly. However, because of this, Quattro was going to have a scar on the right side of his face- a permanent reminder of what had happened. Everyone had hailed his bravery in saving Rio, but hardly anyone talked about Rio's courage in going after Iris in the first place. It bothered him, especially since Rio had been hurt far worse than he had.

He'd insisted when Dr. McNeil was first called for that she be tended to first, refusing to cooperate until he was assured that she had been tended to with the best care. Dr. McNeil was the family doctor; there were other doctors to tend to the servants. However, to Quattro, Rio was family, and she deserved the same attention. And, since her burns were far worse, it was only common sense that the doctor should see her first.

"All done," Dr. McNeil said, finishing with bandages. Slowly, Quattro reached up and felt the cloth around his head.

"How's Rio doing? Will she be up soon?"

The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid not, your highness," he said slowly. "The damage to her body was very extensive. She has fallen into a deep coma- a type of sleep- so her body can rest and heal itself. The problem is, we can only keep her alive on nutrients and water for so long. At a certain point, if she doesn't wake up, she'll starve to death."

"Then you've got to wake her up!" Quattro said, jumping up too fast and receiving a jolt of pain.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Prince Thomas. The usual methods- smelling salts and cold water- might not work, and awakening her could kill her anyway. Her body is simply too weak to function during consciousness."

"Then what are we going to do?" Quattro cried in despair. "We can't just let her die!"

"It's going to be alright, son," King Byron said, wrapping his arms around his middle child. "There's no reason to give up hope that she won't wake up before the nutrients and water stop supporting her. The best we can do is help her burns heal as fast as possible."

Just then, there were light footsteps outside the door, and Trey appeared, his fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of his shirt. "Chris is ready to talk to you about the wedding, father," he said.

"Tell him Thomas and I will be right there," Byron sighed. Trey nodded and left, going back the way he'd come. King Byron took ahold of Quattro's arm and guided him through the door and down the hall. The fire had ruined all of the careful wedding preparations. Changing the date of the wedding on such short notice would cause a lot of confusion, but surely the most important wedding of the century should not be done without flowers and refreshments.

Byron helped the son that looked most like his deceased wife sit down and then took his seat at the head of the table. He looked at his eldest son and future daughter and law who sat on his right. "Have you two decided what you want to do about the wedding?"

"We have, father," Chris said. He took a deep breath, and then said very quickly, "We've decided to hold off on getting married. In a way, the fire was a blessing in disguise, because-"

"A blessing in disguise!" Thomas cried indignantly. "How can you call it a blessing when Rio might never wake up again?"

There was a soft gasp from the doorway. Unable to see, Quattro hadn't noticed Iris's approach, or that she now stood before the royals, her face drawn and pale.

"Iris-" Trey started, but she didn't stay to hear what he had to say. She turned and fled. The youngest brother looked like he was about to go after her, but his father's words stopped him. 

"Let her go, Michael. She needs to be alone for a little while."

Iris ran through the halls of the palace that had become her home, tears threatening to fall. Rio might never wake up. It wasn't possible, was it? She would be alone, with no link to who she truly was left. She ran to the room where Rio was being cared for. Upon reaching it, a surge of tears- tears- tears of anger, frustration, and despair, overtook her, and she fell to her knees besides the bed, clutching her sister's bandaged hand. Bandages covered every visible part of the older Kastle sister. Her breathing was shallow and faint; the doctor had said that air would have to be pumped into her lungs at regular intervals to help her breathe with all the smoke that she had inhaled.

"Rio. Big sister," Iris whispered hoarsely when the tears finally subsided. "Please, do not leave me alone." For the first time in years, Iris longed, truly longed, for Nash. Her memories of him were faint, but she knew that he had always been there to protect them, to make them strong. She wanted him here now. She didn't think she could bear this on her own.

Days passed, and Iris spent most of her waking time by Rio's bedside. Quattro probably would have, too, if it hadn't been for his schoolwork. It was this observation that gave Trey his idea. If schoolwork could distract his brother from worrying about his best friend, maybe it would work for Iris. So, he went to talk to his father about the possibility of Iris joining him and Quattro for their daily lessons.

"You want Iris to join you and Thomas in your learning?"

"Yes. You see, Father, I've noticed how hard work distracts Thomas from worrying about Rio, and I thought- well, that Iris wouldn't be so miserable if she had something to occupy herself with."

King Byron sat back and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You've made a very interesting observation, son. Lots of people cope with hard times by busying themselves. I think it would be beneficial for Iris to have something to do." He sat up and leaned forward, looking intently at his youngest son. "What made you think of having her join in your lessons? Don't you think we could give her other activities to do?"

Trey turned red, not having expecting this development. "I- I don't know. I guess I thought that giving her a list of chores wasn't the best way to offer comfort. I think that I stand a good chance of talking her into joining Thomas and me in learning, though, and we even have old school books for her to use. She could learn the same stuff we learned when we were her age, and if that bores her, well… I didn't really think that far ahead."

Byron smiled at his son's attempts to explain his idea. "I think it's an excellent suggestion, Michael. Why don't you ask her if she's interested, and I'll tell your tutors to expect a new pupil in their class soon."

Trey was thrilled- as well as a little relieved. "Thanks, Dad! I'll do my best to try and help her." With that, he turned and hurried out of the room, unable to help grinning. He was sure Iris would feel much better when she had something to do.

"You want me to join in your lessons?" She asked when he presented his idea to her.

"Sure, why not? I think it'll be fun, having you in our class."

"I- I don't know," Iris said, looking at Rio's comatose form.

"You aren't helping Rio any by sitting and staring at her, Iris. I'm sure she would want you to be up and doing something, not grieving by her bedside all day."

Iris took her friend's words to heart. To be honest, after thinking about it, she didn't think she would be able to maintain her sanity if she had nothing to do, and then she would be of no use to her sister…or her brother.

That first morning, before she went to the royal schoolroom, she stopped by Rio's room to tell her sister. "I'm going to school, Rio. With Quattro and Trey, I'm going to be taught by royal tutors. You told me how much you and Nash were always spending time with different teachers trying to learn all sorts of different things. I suppose now I'll find out what subjects I find interesting and boring. I wonder if you and I'll have similar tastes. Oh! I almost forgot. I've been holding this for you." Iris took a familiar platinum ring out of her pocket and held it up to the light. "Luckily the fire didn't damage it too much, and I polished it back to its original shine. I'll give it back to you as soon as the doctor takes off the bandages on your hands. Until then, it stays right here with me all the time." The small green-haired girl nestled the ring back into her pocket. "I'll come back and see you after lunch, okay, Rio? Don't miss me too much."

With that, she turned and left the room, humming the Salkie lullaby that she had memorized by now.

"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth,

 _Little baby, hear my voice_

"Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhàn…"

 _I'm beside you, O maiden fair…_

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Emperor Domitian is growing increasingly frustrated with an enemy that he can't see.**


	20. Raid at Saleed

Emperor Domitian's conquests of all the lands in Baria to the base of the Tachyon Mountains were complete. It had been almost exactly four comings and goings of the rains since he and his men had first taken Ralphenom's castle on Saleed. Now, he was back here again, enjoying his triumphs. The only thing that was missing was his personal slave. He longed to have the brat cowering at his feet again- the brat that had been Ralphenom's heir. Of course, there were also those annoying reports of attacks on his various military posts. Like raccoons, they came in the middle of the night, damaged and stole whatever they could, and then disappeared. Oh well. He'd capture and execute them all eventually.

He was just settling down to sleep in his late enemy's royal chambers when there was a great commotion outside his door. Not liking great commotions, Domitian stalked over and threw the door open, glaring at the guards, two of which were guarding his room, and the other flushed and panting.

"What is going on out here?" He demanded.

"Forgive me, your majesty," the flushed guard gasped out, "But there has been an attack. Here at your palace, tonight. They-"

Domitian saw red. "How did they get in? What did they do? Where were the guards? Were any captured?"

"They came right in the gate, my Lord. They stole a good amount of our weapons and horses, and set fire to the soldiers' quarters. They're still trying to put out the flames. None of the intruders were captured, but…about an entire regiment of our own was killed."

"WHRER WERE THE GAURDS?" Domitian bellowed, grabbing the soldier by his tunic. "What were they doing, drinking the night away? I'll hang them all!"

"Th-they panicked and ran, your highness!"

"Panicked and ran? From a few little rebels? These are my best soldiers that I chose to guard my palace? I will have tom improve discipline in my ranks, won't I?"

"Please, your highness! We were attacked by a- a demon of sorts; some sort of terrifying monster!"

Domitian's eyes narrowed. "What kind of monster?"

"It was a huge, hulking figure, not appearing to have any limbs- and he was shouting that he was the Dread Pirate Roberts, and that there would be no survivors!"

"And this caused all the guards at the palace gate to go running like little girls?"

"No, your highness," The soldier was pale and wide-eyed as he recalled it. "It wasn't until the Dread Pirate Roberts burst into flame, yet appeared unharmed, that everyone went running and screaming."

It had been Dumon's idea. Mizar was the new Chief of the Tachyon Mountains, but Dumon had quickly become the leader of the rebellion in general. The son of a former Barian Emperor, and having been raised as a knight, his eye for strategy was far greater than Girag's, Alito's, or Mizar's. The Galaxy-Eyes master had quickly come to rely on Dumon's advice. Dumon had recommended not making any moves against Domitian until the weather changed for the better. Girag had agreed with this, having been trained as a General, and he had also managed to convince Alito, who wanted to rush out and punch as many Astranians as he could, that waiting was the best option.

So, as soon as the warm season had come, the raids had started. They had begun at Widehan-Yosae, because it was the closest to them. However, at Girag's suggestion, they hadn't simply worked their way east to the United Lands. That would be like handing their enemy clues to find out where they would strike next. So, they back-tracked, attacked the same place several times in close succession, and then went for half of a moon cycle without making a move- all tactics to confuse and befuddle the Astranians. Now, in the very heat of the hot rainy season, they had finally reached the United Lands, and they planned to attack the capital, where Domitian was holed up- the palace at Saleed.

However, the place was very strongly fortified, and the question remained as to _how_ they were going to get in. Alito said that he could handle ten guards at a time- which none of them doubted- but they highly suspected that fifty or more guards would be standing at the gate, and Dumon, Mizar, Girag, and the others who came on raids with them couldn't possibly handle forty without attracting a lot of unwanted attention.

They had quickly realized that Domitian relied on sheer power to win his battles. Going up against him head-on would have foolish- not to mention suicidal. So they had come up with the idea of sabotage. They would destroy or take whatever possible from Domitian's army- crippling them in any way they could. They also helped as many people as they could- slaves or otherwise- to escape to the haven of the Tachyon Mountains Tonight they had also hoped to encourage the people now enslaved under the treacherous emperor. Once Domitian was attacked right under his nose without even realizing it, the people of Baria would realize that he wasn't as invincible as he seemed. Hopefully, it would convince even more to join their rebellion.

In order to get into the palace, they had come up with a rather eccentric plan. Dumon had gotten the idea from one of his favorite childhood books- a book that Nash had introduced to him, not that he had told anyone that. Mizar was the only one who knew about Nash, Marin, and Iris. The idea came from _Aya Prinsess Arusada-_ The Princess Bride. When the three heroes- Inigo, Fezzik, and Westley- had to enter the palace to rescue Buttercup, Fezzik, who was a giant, had dressed in a large holocaust cloak, which protected him from flames. Putting his in a wheelbarrow, they had wheeled him forward. Draped in a cloak, it had looked as if he had no arms or legs.

Imitating this attack was eccentric, yes, but it had worked. A wheelbarrow hadn't been that hard to find- they had taken several and used them to haul their spoils away from the military posts previously. A holocaust cloak was something else altogether. When Alito had asked what it was, Dumon had said he didn't know; he'd always thought that S. Morgenstern had made it up. Of course Mizar had become exasperated, wanting to know how they were supposed to pull off a heist in which perhaps the most important ingredient was missing. It was Ponta who had come to the rescue. Having a great knowledge of nature in general, he knew that Soahk fibers, when woven together, made a cloth that would protect you from fire for a solid amount of time before it weakened.

Making a holocaust cloak from scratch only suns from the planned date had seemed almost impossible, but when everyone had pitched in, the garment had come together rapidly. It wasn't perfect, but they were going to burn it anyway, so it didn't matter. They had woven several layers on top of each other, making it as protective as possible. Ponta had checked their work, because after all, it was his partner that was going to be set aflame. Girag had been chosen to do Fezzik's part because he was the biggest, and therefore the most intimidating, size wise.

Approaching the palace gate, Dumon's heart had been pounding in his chest, so loudly he was afraid it would give them away. This was Nash's home. Never had he imagined he would lead o raid on his friend's palace. Whenever they had talked about battles in their futures, they had always been fighting side by side. Never had Nash been dead and Dumon an outlaw and rebel attacking his castle. Behind them in the dark, the many warriors who were backing them up had crept silently along, weapons at the ready. There were about sixty men guarding the castle gate- just like in the book, Dumon thought grimly.

As they drew nearer, Girag began to call to the soldiers, who had already noticed them and begun to ready themselves for a fight. "I AM THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS! THERE WILL BE NO SURVIVORS! NO SURVIVORS!" Domitian's men began to back up, watching the oncoming monster warily. Then, straining against Girag's weight in the wheelbarrow, Mizar had lit him. Upon seeing that, all of the Astranian soldiers had panicked and run…just like in the book, except there was no gatekeeper left to demand a key from.

The rest had been relatively simple. They had scaled the walls, set the soldiers' barracks on fire to keep them occupied, and then ransacked and pillaged whatever they could. Alito was perhaps the best at these group fights. The enemy always underestimated him because of his small size and lack of a weapon. However, the small boy's fists flattened more of them than Mizar's or Dumon's swords put together. Girag and Ponta baffled many of the soldiers by pulling their duplicate trick. Girag would lure them into a fight, and then, almost instantaneously, another version of him would pop up, and the soldiers would be so surprised that it was like child's play to dispatch them.

That night, Dumon had headed for the stables in order to free as many horses as he could. The rebels would round up what they could later, and even if they didn't catch them all, it would take the Astranians precious time and resources to track the remaining ones down. What he had found in the stables had almost made Dumon break down in tears. A worn down, thin, beaten black stallion- Black Ray Lancer, Nash's horse. The magnificent colt had been beaten and starved, probably because of his rebellious attitude. Dumon remembered how wild Lancer had been, and how Nash was the only one he would let ride him. He approached the thin animal slowly, not knowing how he would react to someone coming at him.

"Lancer," Dumon murmured. "What did they do to you?" Hesitantly, he reached out and stroked the stallion's nose. Lancer shifted slightly, but he didn't even seem to have the strength to move away from an unwanted touch. "Don't worry, boy," Dumon whispered to him. "I'm here to get you out of this place." He opened the latch of Lancer's stall door, leaving it wide open so the stallion could escape. Then, he hurried to do the same for the others, realizing that he had already wasted precious time.

Most of the horses had already smelled smoke and needed no encouragement to flee from the potential danger. A few needed slaps on the rump to get going, though. "Hiyah! Go! Get out here!" Dumon shouted at them. He turned toward his dead friend's colt, who hadn't moved from his stall. "Lancer, come on," Dumon said, trying to coax him out. "We can't stay here." The silver-haired Barian didn't dare slap the stallion, not after the evident abuse he had suffered. Had it been any other horse, Dumon might have left him- such a worn down creature wasn't much use to the Astranians anyway- but this was Nash's horse. That made him a friend, and you never left a friend behind.

Dumon had just managed to get Lancer out of his stall when he heard footsteps and the clamor of armor. In another instant, he was surrounded by Astranian soldiers. Dumon cursed under his breath- something he never did- and turned to face his enemy.

"Well, well, well," the soldier who was in charge chuckled. "Let me guess, the rebels are so poor they send their stable boy to steal even the most worthless of his majesty's animals." Dumon couldn't help smiling. They didn't even suspect he was one of the leaders of this uprising.

"Black Ray Lancer," he whispered to the black stallion, "I know you never let anyone but Nash ride you, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" Expertly, Dumon grabbed Lancer's mane and swung himself onto his back. Lancer tensed and trembled upon feeling someone on his back.

The guards laughed. "You really think that broken-down nag is going to get you anywhere?"

Dumon ignored them. "Come on, boy," he whispered, stroking Lancer's neck. "Show them what you're made of. For me. For Nash." Lancer's ears flicked forward upon hearing his master's name. Dumon was never sure how many of his words the stallion had understood, but suddenly, the huge horse surged forward. Dumon's grip on the stallion's side with his knees automatically tightened, and he lowered his head to avoid getting swept off. The soldiers, caught completely off guard, panicked, running in every direction to avoid the beast. Lancer barreled through them, out of the stables, and into the night.

Nothing, not torches, weapons, shouting, or the massive palace walls could stop Black Ray Lancer now. Dumon hung on for dear life as the stallion cleared the seven-foot wall. Landing on the other side, Lancer reared up and let out a whinny of freedom that resounded throughout the air. Dumon heartily agreed with him.

It wasn't until sunrise the next morning when the rebels had regrouped that Lancer's adrenaline burst (if it could be called that) wore off. He sank to the ground, breathing heavily, foam dripping off his back.

"Wow," Mizar said. He didn't know much about horses, but he knew a thoroughly spent creature when he saw one. Dumon hurried to get some cold water. Coaxing Lancer to drink, he began to vigorously wipe him down.

"Food," he muttered. "He needs food. And I've got to get him up and moving. After that run, he'll cramp up if he just lies still."

"Dumon," Mizar asked slowly, "Who is this horse?"

"Black Ray Lancer. Nash's horse." Mizar understood. Quickly he went to fetch carrots and oats for the newest member of their group.

It wasn't until Dumon was on his third lap around the campsite with Lancer that Girag asked, "Has anyone seen Alito?" Several reports fell in- most of them how so-and-so had seen him fighting at such-and-such a place, but no one seemed to remember him coming back with them to the arranged meeting place. A thorough search told them what they dreaded to find: Alito was missing. Dumon collapsed onto a fallen log, stunned. He had failed. He had left a friend behind. Girag buried his face in his hands. He had promised to watch out for the small gladiator. Ponta tried to comfort him, but to no avail.

It was because of the heavy silence that had fallen over the camp that everyone heard the sound of someone stumbling clumsily through the nearby brush. The rebels scrambled for their weapons, fearing the worst, but their alarm was unfounded. A moment later, Alito staggered into the camp, clutching his stomach.

"Alito!" Girag rushed forward to help his friend. "Take it easy, pal. What'd they do to you?"

"You would not believe what I went through last night," the small fighter said. "I got cornered by about twenty of those Astranian dogs. I managed to disarm most of them pretty quickly, but by that time, lots of you guys had already left, so there were more of them to pick on me. Man, I've never had to fight off so many unskilled fighters at a time. I tell ya, it was pretty exhausting, facing the same attacks over and over again. I began countering with my subdominant hand, just to make it interesting."

The others stared at him. "But…where are you injured?" Dumon asked.

"Injured? I'm not hurt anywhere. Weren't you listening? Those clumsy oafs couldn't touch me. I am really, really hungry though. I've never gone such a long time without food, and fighting a hundred guys all in one night really takes it out of you, ya know?"

Mizar was incredulous. "That's it? You're just _hungry?_ "

Dumon couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Alito demanded.

"You know, Alito, I don't think you need a 'cool animal companion' to help you out. You do pretty well on your own."

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Quattro is becoming a young man… and it hasn't escaped his notice that Rio is becoming a young woman, even if she is unconscious.**


	21. Feelings

Quattro was going mad. It was now July- two months since the fire- and Rio was still unconscious. His wounds had healed, though there was now a cross-shaped scar over his right eye, but he didn't care about that. He wanted Rio to wake up. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to feel her soft hand in his. He also wanted to be able to spend time with her again- and not just her silent, still form- because he was sure that if he did, the strange feelings he'd been having about her would also go away. Whenever he thought about the Barian girl, his heart would flutter or his stomach would begin to do flip-flops, and his face would begin to feel uncomfortably warm. It was aggravating, not being able to have control over his own emotions.

One time, he'd been visiting her in her room, and he'd thought how much he'd like to kiss her, now that she wasn't covered in so many bandages. He'd smacked himself upside the head for even considering it. He and Rio were _friends,_ nothing more. Why would he want to ruin a perfectly good friendship with an icky thing like romance? What did real love feel like anyway? It was this question that drove him to track down Quinton one afternoon when it was too hot to go outside.

"Chris? Can I come in?" He asked, poking his head into his older brother's drawing room. The oldest Arclight brother closed the book he'd been reading and looked up at him with a tired smile.

"Sure, Thomas, come on in." Gratefully, the scarlet-eyes prince stepped inside, shutting the door behind him before going to join his brother on the settee in the middle of the room. "What's on your mind? Chris asked after Quattro's silence, in his opinion, had gone on for too long.

"Rio."

Chris sighed. "Thomas, we all wish she would wake up. You're just going to have to accept that there are some things out of your control."

"No, I mean, Rio's _all_ I can think about. I keep wanting to…to kiss her. To hold her tight and never let her go. Chris, I…I think I'm in love with her."

Chris sat silently and stared off into space. What was he going to do now? He had known that Quattro's feelings for Rio were growing, but he'd hoped that the epiphany of love wouldn't come until later, or that, when it did come, Quattro would take it to their father. But no, his brother had to come to him, and now he was going to have to tell him the hard truth.

'Thomas," he said seriously, "You know you can't… have a relationship with her."

Quattro blinked. "What do you mean?"

"If you do love her, you should find something to distract yourself. Maybe leave for a while. Have parties to meet other girls."

" _What_?" Quattro demanded. "I came here for help to keep my relationship with Rio, Quinton, not bring it to an end."

"But if you have feelings for her, Thomas, it has to stop. You are a prince of Heartland. She is a Barian, and a slave. True, we hold no grudges against her, but the people of Arclight won't be so forgiving. They haven't forgotten the terror they used to live in, or the long list of missing family members and friends because of the Barian raids."

"But Rio's not responsible for any of that!"

"I know that, and you know that, and maybe we could even convince the people of that, but… they're not going to accept their future King having a relationship with- or marrying- a Barian slave girl."

"What does it matter what the people think? And no one mentioned marriage- we're not old enough for that."

"But you will be soon." Chris sighed and ran his hand through his long, silver hair. "And as king, you will have a duty to the people. You must lead them, but also not do anything to provoke them."

Quattro jumped up, his face livid. "If you weren't marrying Kari and leaving us to become Emperor of Tsukamo, I wouldn't have to be king!"

"Quattro, please," Quinton begged, "Don't cause yourself unnecessary pain by entering a relationship that's only going to be torn apart by force later."

For a moment Quattro stood there, his fists clenched, trembling with anger. Then, it dissipated, and he sank back down next to his brother, suddenly looking very tired. "It's not fair," he said, swiping at his eyes- _not_ because he was crying, but because there was something in his eye, he insisted.

"Life is hardly ever fair," Quinton sighed. "Kari and I, we're falling in love slowly. Every day I find myself appreciating her more and more. But what who knows what would have happened to us if duty didn't call us to be together?"

"But what am I going to do?" Quattro asked him. "I can't just forget about her- not after everything we've been through." _Not after everything she's trusted me with._

Quinton smiled a little sadly. "Distract yourself. Throw a few parties and invite some of the nobles' children that are around your own age."

Quattro wrestled with himself for a few minutes. Finally he said, "All right. I'll talk to Dad about it." As he headed out, he suddenly turned back and added, "You know, there's still hope. Maybe we can convince Michael to become a rebel and marry for love."

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Vector and Shark receive an unwelcome visitor.**


	22. Unwelcome Visitor

The hot rainy season was especially hot and muggy during these rains. It made Marya all the more glad to not be in the fields anymore. It had taken her a while to get used to the fine linens, the soft beds, and the baths as often as she wanted. Often times she would wake up on the floor at dawn, having moved there in the middle of the night because it was closer to what she was used to sleeping on. Shark told her not to worry about it; he had scared Vector out of his mind some mornings when he would start moving around early because he was used to be active at that time. "It goes away in time," he'd said. Of course, in Marya's opinion, it was far better to have to readjust yourself to finery than have to slave away in the sugarcane fields for another rainy season.

During those early mornings, the two friends would sit and talk about everything and anything, though mostly about their lives and siblings before Emperor Domitian had come and enslaved them. Marya would talk about Lanu and all the fun they had had together before her marriage, and how much she missed her. Shark sometimes mentioned his sisters and their childhood together, but he never told her their names. Marya knew it was painful for him to talk about. She knew for a fact that Lanu was dead; she had mourned her and then, with Shark's help, moved on. But he had no inkling of what fate had befallen his younger sisters. She could not imagine the torment he lived in every day.

Marya still had Shark's locket, but no matter how many times she tried to convince him to take it back, he refused. "I want you to have something to remember me by," he'd say, like he knew they were going to be split up again. She didn't want to know what his theory about their future was, because he was usually right.

Although Shark was still very mysterious to her, she knew a little bit more about him from their early morning discussions. He was a skilled fencer, and was actually teaching Vector in the art. The ring he wore was a mark of him being a twin; he and his sister had been given the identical bands at birth. Although he hadn't told her directly, Marya was willing to bet that he had come from a very wealthy family. How else could he have a solid platinum ring and locket, the latter with a pure sapphire decorating it?

Marya was happy to be one of Vector's personal slaves- not because she'd accepted her station in life- but because it meant freedom from the back-breaking work of the fields and more time to spend with Shark- time that wasn't being used to cultivate sugar.

Life as members of Vector's household was also, simply put, a lot more fun. Shark had told her of Vector's writings; his short stories and plays, praising them generously, for him. Vector had asked, _very_ politely for an Astranian, if she would like to read some of them. Knowing that Shark didn't give idle praise, she said yes. Marya had enjoyed the plays- translated from Astranian into Salkie by Shark- so much, that she had suggested acting them out. The afternoons spent in costumes trying to visibly create the adventures of Ray Shadows were some of the best she'd ever spent. Vector played Ray, a dashing hero who suffered from occasional delusions of grandeur. Shark played Reginald- a character that Kylie had named, since Vector had originally wanted to call him 'sidekick.' Reginald was a Heartlandish name, meaning 'king' or 'great ruler.' Kylie didn't know why, but she thought it fit her master's best friend. Reginald was a former slave that Ray had rescued during one of his exploits. Now, he paid his life debt to the daring hero by traveling with Ray on his adventures, and often providing the voice of reason and the way out of various scrapes.

Marya was Lady Marya; her addition to the group had solved Vector's problem of what to name his main female character. She was the niece of Lord Evil who would pass along information to Ray whenever her uncle was plotting something new. Weasel's character was known appropriately as "Guard." (Vector really did need help with thinking up more creative names). He was Lady Marya's protector. Marya's handmaiden Minerva, played by Kylie, was a cautious woman who was always begging her mistress not to do anything foolish or too risky.

If there were any other characters that needed to be played, Vector would have his guards dress up and read their lines. This was a source of great amusement to Shark and Marya. The fierce brutality of the Astranian army disappeared as soon as their Emperor's son demanded something from them. Today, however, it was just the five of them in the scene. Kylie and Marya laughed together as they did each other's hair, and Shark and Vector were putting the finishing touches on their costumes.

"I wonder where Weasel is," Vector said, fiddling with his sword belt.

"Humph," was all he got in response from Shark. To be honest, the purplette himself wasn't thrilled about the whole playacting thing. He was a little indignant that he, the crown prince- actually the Emperor- of the United Lands had been reduced to the playmate of his enemy's heir. But he put up with it for Marya's sake. Besides, it was better than playing pet to Vector's deranged old man.

Shark was snapped out of his thoughts by pounding footsteps approaching. The double doors to Vector's chambers were thrown open, and there stood Weasel, face red and panting heavily. "It's your father," he gasped out, speaking to Vector. "He's back, and he's coming to see you."

"What d'we do? What d'we do?" Vector asked, panicked. All common sense had left him. If his father were to walk in here and find him playacting, with a group of _slaves_ no less… Shark, fortunately, still had his wits about him and had taken charge.

"Marya, take all of the costumes, scripts, translations, everything- and hide with them in my room. I'm going to need a raggedy outfit and those chains we used for the Pit of Despair scene. Kylie, hide all of the books that Emperor Domitian might not care for. Weasel, get out in the hallway; it'll look odd if you're in here with us. Vector, stop hyperventilating! Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?" Shark began pulling the Prince's accessories off of him- particularly the sword, which he didn't trust the younger boy to handle by himself right now- and handing them to Marya. The sword itself he laid on the bedroom table next to his own. Weapons were something that Domitian would have no objection to. "Kylie, can you get him back into his own clothes? His father can't see him dressed like that."

As he spoke, Shark hastily removed his own costume and slipped into the rags- a tan shirt and light brown trousers- that Marya had given him. He took off his shoes and ran his fingers through his hair a few times to make it look unkempt. Looking around for inspiration, he gathered up ashes from the fire and smudged them on his face and arms. For the final touch, he clapped the manacles on his wrists and fastened the iron collar around his neck, dumping the end of the leash attached to it on Vector's bed, where the ginger-haired royal was lying in shock.

"Vector!" Shark hissed. "You've got to snap out of it! Here, read this." He pushed an Astranian book- _The History of Weaponry_ \- at him, open to a random page. The words gave Vector something to focus on, and he was soon deeply immersed in the history of the battle axe, though he hardly knew what he was reading. Shark knelt on the floor next to Vector's bed and looked around for anything out of place. Kylie was in her corner, weaving; Marya had disappeared, and- his sandals! They were lying in the middle of the floor! Hurriedly, Shark kicked them under the bed, and then resumed his position, breathing heavily with his eyes downcast.

The moments dragged on, seeming to take an eternity to pass. Finally, there were heavy footsteps in the corridor, and someone pounded on the door to Vector's room. They received no answer. Vector didn't even appear to be aware that anything was happening around him. There was more pounding, and then the unmistakable voice of Domitian.

"Vector? Are you in there?"

Slowly, seeing that his master wasn't going to respond, Shark got up and walked to the door. Steeling himself for anything the despicable man might do, he opened it and quickly stepped aside as Domitian burst into the room, eyes ablaze with anger.

"Vector! When I return from war, I expect you to meet me honorably, not lounging around on your bed reading one of your silly books!" He snatched the text out of Vector's hands. "What stupid thing are you reading this time?" He stopped short when he saw the title. "History of Weaponry," he muttered. "You're reading this, son?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, uh… sort of." Vector shifted uncomfortably. He seriously hoped his father didn't expect him to summarize it. But Domitian's attention had already been caught by the two blades on the table next to him.

"What's this? Could my twit of a son have actually taken an interest in manly skills?" He picked up one of the swords and held it, testing the weight and balance. "A little light for me," he said, "But then your hands are as small as a woman's."

"I'm only eleven, after all," his son murmured, ears red with embarrassment. He then received the shock of his life when the weapon came sailing through the air straight towards him. Letting out a strangled cry, Vector dove out of the way, falling off the bed onto the stone floor in the process. The blade pierced the bed where he had been moments before, making a dull _thwack_ sound.

"Your reflexes have improved. Though you could have _caught_ it!" Domitian growled.

"What? Oh, sorry." Quickly Vector grasped the swords hilt and pulled it out of his mattress. He was about to hand it back to his father when the man suddenly drew his own weapon.

"On guard!" Startled, Vector desperately parried, jumped and twirled to avoid being hit. While Domitian attacked with such ferocity no one would ever guess that the two of them were father and son. They came dangerously close to Marya's hiding place a few times, causing Shark's breath to hitch. However, he couldn't help but be proud of how long Vector managed to keep his father at bay. His childlike clumsiness was gone, and Shark recognized several particular moves that he had spent long tiresome sun passes to teach him.

Despite this, the duel was relatively short and Vector was soon flat on the ground with Domitian's sword at his throat. "Perhaps you are not hopeless after all," Domitian said, sheathing his sword and leaving his son to pick himself up. The Emperor's eyes next landed on Shark, who was once again kneeling by Vector's bed. "And this is the slave I gave you for your birthday right before I left. It seems you have tamed him. I never would have believed it. How do you keep him in his place, son?"

"K-keep him in his place? Well, I, uh… I tell him I will be very angry and disappointed with him if he misbehaves. And…and if he still doesn't listen I lock him up alone with only bread and water until he promises to be good." It was obvious Vector thought this was the cruelest thing he could possibly do. Domitian thought otherwise.

"Do you mean to tell me you've never used the lash on him?"

"Um…"

Domitian let out a noise of disgust. "Gihespii! Get me a strap!" The guard hastily bowed and left the room, only to return shortly with a stiff leather strap, which he handed to the Emperor with another bow. Examining the tool and approving it, Domitian marched to where Shark knelt, grabbed him by his leash, and yanked him to his feet. "I'm going to enjoy this," Domitian whispered in his ear, eliciting stiffness in his captive. The ruler spun the slave around and pushed him against the wall, making sure the chain was out of the way. The he handed the leather strap to Vector. "Thrash him."

"But…but he hasn't done anything wrong!" Vector protested, horrified at what he was being told to do. Beat a friend? He couldn't!

"It's not about whether or not he's done something wrong! It's about you displaying dominance! Thrash him!"

Trembling, Vector took the lash and walked to where Shark was braced against the wall. Shark wanted to tell him that it was okay; that he didn't hold anything against him, but be didn't dare open his mouth. Vector raised the strap and struck Shark across the back, a distinct _crack_ echoing throughout the quiet room. It didn't hurt, really; Vector was too frightened to give a really strong blow, but Shark jerked anyway, hoping that Domitian would think it had hurt more than it had. Vector, startled and horrified, dropped the leather strap and backed up. "Th-there. I did it."

Furious, Domitian yanked his son out of the way and snatched up the lash himself. "I will show you how to whip a slave!" he shouted, raising the weapon and bringing it down hard and precise. This time, Shark jerked for real and cried out. It had been a long time since he'd felt the sting of a whip, and he had to close his eyes against the tears. Domitian proceeded brutally, landing blow after blow savagely.

Shark curled himself up against the wall, eyes squeezed shut tightly. _I can do this. I can do this._ He told himself. Finally, after about thirty lashes, Domitian stopped. He handed the strap back to Gihespii and stepped back to admire his handy work. Shark tunic was shredded, and trickles of blood were staining it slowly. He turned to his son, whose eyes were huge and his mouth hanging open.

" _That_ is how you thrash a slave," he said sternly. "Remember it." With that, he turned and marched out of the room his soldiers trailing after him.

For a moment, there was absolute silence in the Crown Princes bedchamber, except for Shark's labored breathing. Then, Vector came to his senses and rushed to his friend, managing to catch him just before his strength failed him and he collapsed.

"Shark! Shark, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to, honest, I didn't!"

"I know," Shark said weakly. Then the pain became too much, and he passed out.

It took Kylie a while to convince Vector that his friend wasn't dead. By the time she had, Marya had emerged from her hiding place and was tending to Shark's injuries. When Vector saw the blood covering Shark's back, he had to run from the room to find a chamber pot to empty his stomach into. Kylie explained, to a perplexed Marya, that her master had never been able to stand the sight of blood.

Shark woke up shortly after this, much to Marya's relief. "Oh, Shark, thank goodness. I heard everything from your room. Are you alright? How bad is it?"

"I'll live, if that's what you mean." He winced. "Of course, I've been better."

Marya sighed in relief. She couldn't explain why, but listening to Shark's cries and grunts of pain had filled her with a kind of fear and anger that she'd never felt before. As she looked at her purple-haired friend, the one who had saved her life all that time ago, she realized that her feelings for him went deeper than she had ever realized before.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Despite Quinton's warnings, Quattro can't help but be drawn to Rio, no matter how many other pretty girls he surrounds himself with.**


	23. Awakening

"It's a wonderful party, Prince Thomas."

"The food is wonderful! Who's your chef?"

"The room looks simply divine!"

"Is that muslin you're wearing? I'm so glad I didn't wear my silk gown. It would look so awkward here. Mother said it wouldn't be a formal party, but I have a tendency to…"

Prince Thomas had been listening to chatter like this for what felt like an eternity. The point of this party, like all the others he'd hosted this summer, was to get to know the girls eligible to one day be his bride, but so far the idea of being married to any of them made him gag. He was trying to do what Quinton had said- to distract himself from Rio- but he couldn't help but compare all these spoiled brats to his blue-haired angel upstairs. She was beautiful, witty, bold, and unassuming. These girls were all silly, frivolous, shallow, and full of themselves. Thomas had managed to perfect a façade of politeness and amiability over the past few weeks, but he was sure one of these biddies was going to drive him over the edge one of these days.

Fortunately, Michael always attended these gatherings to help him keep his annoyance reigned in. In fact, here came his younger brother now, moving through the crowd of gawkers towards him. Some of the girls blushed as he passed, fluttering their eyelashes at him or giggling loudly to gain his attention. Thomas resisted the urge to hit some of them.

"It's time for the first dance," the redhead whispered into his ear when he finally managed to reach him. Thomas sighed. That meant he would have to find a partner.

"Excuse me, ladies," he said, bowing at \the waist. He maneuvered his way past them and proceeded to scan the room for a girl less obnoxious than they were. There, in a corner, was a girl with long, light brown hair slowly nibbling on a biscuit. He set his steps in her direction, and soon stood before her, much to her alarm.

"Prince Thomas," she said when she noticed him, quickly descending in an unbalanced curtsey, as the biscuit was still clutched in her one hand.

He bowed in response, pretending to take no notice. "Might I have your name, gracious lady?" She blushed.

"Summer, your highness."

"Well, Summer, would you like to dance?"

"I- I'd be delighted." She looked around, before laying the half-eaten biscuit down on a napkin and accepting his arm.

Summer was a good dancer, and she wasn't as petty as some of his other guests, but she was very shy and timid, nothing like his head-strong Rio. _Stop! Don't think about her right now!_ "So, Summer, do you go to many parties?"

"Oh, no, your highness. I'm too shy to do much socializing. Not like my friend Jen. She's always getting herself into scrapes because she never backs down from anything, and she has a 'big mouth' as one person once said," Summer explained, smiling fondly at the memory.

Thomas grinned. "Interesting that the two of you should be friends, being so opposite from each other. Is your friend here tonight?"

Summer shook her head. "No. She couldn't make it. She wanted to come, though." Thomas and Summer had several more dances together, as the Prince found her more tolerable than any of his other guests, and he thanked his guardian angel for this shy girl's attendance, sure that she had saved his sanity that night.

Art Stanley, the son of Lord Stanley of King Byron's court, had stayed against the wall of the ballroom all night, glaring at the dancers and his fellow guests. He would much rather have been at home, drawing in his sketch book, but his father had insisted that he come to this accursed party to "meet other young people in his class." Art hated parties, and social gatherings in general. None of the people here could possibly match his talents. His father said that a nobleman's son ought not to draw, as that was a lady's occupation, but Art didn't care. He was talented, and if his father and all the other Arclightian nobles couldn't see that, they were all fools.

As the sixth dance, a polka, started, he turned on his heel and departed from the room, having taken more than he could stand. He wandered through the palace, eyeing the decoration of several halls and rooms critically. His mansion, though much smaller than the royal palace, was much better furnished thanks to his family's superior taste. He turned down yet another corridor and strolled past the rooms, glancing into a few of them. What he saw in one of the chambers stopped him short.

Lying perfectly still in a bed, hands at their sides, was a person covered in bandages. Stepping closer, Art saw that the person was a girl with blue hair. She was very pale, but not in a way Art had ever seen before. Her skin was ivory, not porcelain like the pale skinned Arclights and Tenjos. And her hair…it was a very unusual blue, bright and stunning. Most Heartlanders who had blue hair had such a dark shade that it looked almost black. Art drew in his breath sharply. Could this be the Barian slave girl that the Prince had rushed into the burning palace to save? His parents had said that it couldn't be; surely the person that would be their future King once his brother married knew better than to risk his life for a Barian heathen, especially a slave. Yet here she was, so foreign looking that she had to be a Barian.

Art stared down at her still form, a series of emotions raging through him. She was so beautiful…yet she was a heathen. He raised his hand, before even realizing what he was doing, and gently brushed her cheek. So soft…so perfect. His thumb passed over her lips as a wicked thought came to mind. He could, and no one would ever know. Slowly, he leaned down, cupping the savage's neck, and bringing her face to meet his. His lips were just about to meet hers when-

That morning, Dr. McNeil had removed Rio's bandages on her arms. As soon as he was finished and Iris had once again been alone with her comatose older sister, she had slipped her platinum ring back onto her limp finger.

 _Rio,_ Iris sighed. _I wish I could make things better. Please wake up._ She stayed by her side all day, not leaving except for bathroom breaks and some lunch. She had no desire to intrude upon Quattro's party. She could not understand his sudden desire to socialize so much. She had talked to Trey about it, and he seemed to think it was his brother's way of coping with Ro being unconscious. Iris could understand that, but what she _couldn't_ understand was why he would put up with other girls' flirting when his heart clearly belonged to her sister. If he thought he was fooling anyone, he was only fooling himself. She had seen the look in his eyes when he found out her sister had still been in the burning palace.

She had only left the room to get a glass of water, to help calm herself after her last bout of sobbing. What she found when she came back was so shocking that she reacted without thinking. All within one second, she dropped her glass, opened her mouth and screamed, and the boy leaning over her sister's still form whirled to face her.

Quattro recognized the scream instantly. _Iris!_ If Iris was screaming, it could only mean one thing: She was in trouble, and since she never left Rio's side, Rio must be in trouble too. Without second thought, he pulled away from Summer and sprinted across the room, towards the back staircase. He took the stairs two at a time and dashed down the route that he had memorized, the route to Rio's room. He arrived to see Iris, still screaming, backed in a corner by one of his guests, a lanky boy with greasy red hair tied in a ponytail.

"Get away from her!" Quattro shouted, reaching out and yanking the boy back. "What do you think you're doing in here?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Iris, kneeling down to her level. "What did he do, Iris?"

"He-he wanted to kiss Rio," Iris choked out, her screams having turned to sobs.

"WHAT?!" Furious, Quattro whirled on the perpetrator, his eyes burning with anger. "HOW DARE YOU!" He grabbed the boy by the collar, almost lifting him off his feet. "How dare you put your hands on her?"

"She is only a Barian slave," Art sneered. "She is worth nothing."

"SHE IS WORTH MORE THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!" He turned on his other guests. "Out! All of you out!" Startled, the other boys and girls that had followed him to Rio's room quickly turned and left him with the sisters. Art left too, though his pride had been stung.

For a moment, Quattro couldn't do anything; he was so paralyzed by rage. Then, however, he heard something he had feared he might never hear again.

"Quattro?" It was her voice, weak and cracked, but her voice none the less.

"Rio?" Slowly he turned towards her, almost afraid he had imagined the call.

Iris, however, had no doubts. "Rio!" her eyes filled with tears of relief, the small girl threw herself at her sister. "Oh, Rio, you're awake! I was so scared you would never wake up again. "Oh, thank goodness."

"It's good to see you too, Iris." Rio managed to give her sister a clumsy half-hug. "I feel so stiff and sore. Wha happened? Why can't I see anything?"

"Your eyes are still bandaged," Quattro said, finding his voice. "The fire…it was almost six months ago. You were badly injured. You've been unconscious for a long time." He managed a small smile. "I'm glad you're awake."

She smiled in his general direction. "Me too. Six months! That explains why I feel so stiff. How much did I miss? Oh, that's a silly question; I probably missed a lot. Let's start with an easier one: Who were all those people in here a few moments ago?"

"Oh. You were awake to hear that?"

"Of course I was. With all of Iris screaming in the background, no one could stay asleep. I was just too weak and confused to do anything. I _did_ happen to hear you tell someone that I was 'worth more than they'd ever be.' I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Quattro," she teased.

The prince blushed a deep scarlet, and while Rio couldn't actually see him, she could guess what he looked like. "We-we should call the doctor," he stammered out. Hastily he left the room to go in search of Dr. McNeil. _Rio Kastle,_ he thought. _What is it about you that makes me feel this way?_

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Things are beginning to stir in Heartland. Because of the plans of many, it will never be the same.**


	24. Plans

During the fall and winter months- or the cold season as they said in Baria- leading up to Christopher and Kari's wedding were peaceful from all outward appearances. However, inside the heads of many, there was no rest. Domitian was not a patient man, but neither was he a fool. It had taken a while for him to notice the inconsistencies, because the power he held over Ralphenom's brat had exited him. He had quite enjoyed watching the boy suffer at his hand. However, when going over the incident later, he realized the problem. Shark's hair had been recently cleaned, his skin had softened, and he had been fed well, based on his weight. Domitian didn't know the extent of Vector and Shark's relationship, but he knew his son was far too weak to actually have treated Shark properly, and he was determined to find out just how soft his pathetic spawn was.

Vector was an idiot, so planting spies shouldn't have been that difficult, but Domitian knew that the slaves that served his son, particularly Shark, were intelligent enough to notice an obvious plant. He had had to be especially cautious when replacing guards and servants, but he had slowly started to draw the noose tight around his son's unsuspecting neck.

Meanwhile, his plans to conquer Heartland were well underway. He'd sent for his spies there, anxious to hear the extent of their knowledge that they hadn't sent back with the carrier pigeons. He also had begun to tighten his control of Baria, and to search for the source of this rebellion that was brewing. Soon, with only a little bit of time, he would rule the greatest empire in the world, and no one would oppose him.

Across the sea, in Tenjo, Prince Kite had been watching Heartland closely. Both he and the Galaxy-Eyes sensed a great disturbance, some kind of danger nearby. Kite was sure that Heartland was behind it. When he wasn't watching the human weasel, he was studying the history of Tenjo, especially where the Galaxy-Eyes was concerned. The more he learned, the more convinced he was that he could not be both King and Galaxy-Eyes master. Kings of the past had sought to use the Galaxy-Eyes' power for their own gain, and the dragon could not live happily among the foolish and crowded humans. Kite was sure that he would have to abdicate in order to devote his life to the photon dragon. But how could he disappoint his father like that, and leave his frail brother with the task of running a country?

Kite sighed in frustration as he ran his fingers lightly over the photon blade. He wasn't used to being uncertain about anything, and he wished there was some sort of sure-fire way to determine what he was supposed to do. He sheathed the sword and got to his feet, ready to go back up to the surface. He'd started spending a lot of time in the underground cavern where the story of the Galaxy-Eyes Dragon was illustrated in tapestries. He climbed the stairs and emerged into a side palace hall, where people hardly ever came.

He was about to head towards his own chambers when frantic barking caused him to whirl around in alarm. Orbital was charging towards him, barking insistently. "What is it Orbital?" Kite asked, his hand going to his sword. "What's happened?" Orbital turned back the way he had come and turned his head towards his master, waiting for him to follow.

Boy and dog ran through the halls of the palace, up to the guest quarters, where Orbital stopped before a door to one of the chambers that was ajar.

"This is Heartland's room!" Kite gasped as he entered. "If I hadn't been watching him for the past few months, I'd be able to tell anyway, from the horrible color choices." He looked around, and immediately realized what was wrong. It was empty. There were no clothes anywhere, no shoes, nothing. "Gone!" He cried. "He's gone!"

Frantic, he whirled around and charged out of the room and down the hall. He ran all the way to the throne room, where his father was in a meeting with several of his advisors. "Heartland is gone! His room is deserted!"

"What are you talking about?" Lord Faker asked, startled.

"I knew there was something wrong with that sleaze ball. And now he's up and disappeared!"

The ruler of Tsukamo wasn't in any less turmoil. The words of Queen Dextra echoed throughout his mind, and he knew that something had to be done. He sighed and ran a hand through his unusual hair, regretting what he had to do.

He was sitting in his office, various papers stacked around him. He had just finished sending out all the messages to various people to make sure all the preparations would be done in time for the spring. Now all that was left to do was announce it.

There was a knock on the door, and Kazuma quickly sat up straighter and tried to look less tired. "Come in." He needn't have bothered. It was only Mira, his wife, dressed in a soft white evening gown. "Oh, my dear. I'm glad to see you."

"You're working too hard, dear. He's only twelve. Maybe you could wait another year." She came up behind him and rested her chin on the top of his head.

Kazuma held his head in his hands. "I thought about Mira, but I have to do it now. Dextra was right. Yuma is too oblivious. He doesn't realize all the suffering that takes place in this world. I don't intend to force it on him, just to try and…make it more obvious to him."

Mira leaned over and kissed him. "I know. Good luck on your trip. When are you going to tell him?"

"I think I'll tell him at the same time I tell everybody else."

"At the wedding?"

"Yes."

Mira sighed. "I wish my baby boy didn't have to be exposed to the more vile things of this world. But he will be Prince all his life, and he will have to help his sister rule. It will be better for him, in the long run. Just…promise me you'll keep an eye on him."

"Of course. I'll bring him back home to you. Don't worry."

On board his ship, Heartland sat wrapped in a blanket, thinking hard. He had seen the Princesses- both of them. Domitian had to know about this. He had control of Ralphenom's son, but Marin had powerful friends. He knew how Kite felt about him, based on the coldness with which he'd treated him, and he also knew that the Tenjonian Prince had feelings for the girl. It might not be that difficult for her to rally the Heartlandish countries to her side, and if the Barian people believed that she was the true heir to Ralphenom's throne, they too would support her.

But it didn't matter. Domitian had her brother. They would think of some way to keep her silent. Oh yes, they would stop any attempt she made to take back the United Lands.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Things are changing in Heartland fast- except for one person.**


	25. A Wedding and Two Announcements

Arclightian weddings, Rio discovered, were just like everything else in Arclight- very fancy and very formal. She didn't know why she was even a little bit surprised. She had only vague recollections of weddings in Baria, after all. She remembered dancing and drinking, and running barefoot in tall grass under the moonlight. The bride and groom had gotten on a horse- probably a wedding present, Rio thought- and, riding bareback, galloped off to wherever they were going to spend their honeymoon. Rio wondered whose wedding that had been.

Here it was completely different. The wedding was inside, and everyone watched very solemnly as Kari, dressed in a beautiful white gown encrusted with pearls and jewels with a tiara on her head, glided down the aisle, arm in arm with her father.

Rio stood stiffly at the front of the room, staying very still, as she had been ordered to do. A rose bouquet was clutched in her hands, though it wasn't nearly as magnificent as the one Kari held. Rio knew that many Arclightians were against a Barian slave girl being in their Prince's wedding (he was no longer crown prince) but they blamed it on those "eccentric Tsukamos," who had allowed their daughter's handmaiden, Brianna Stone, to be her maid of honor.

Rio glanced at Brianna, who stood proudly by the altar next to Kari, looking as if no one in the world could do anything to her. _And that's how I feel, too,_ Rio thought. _Both Princess Kari and Quinton wanted me in their wedding, and if they have no objections, than neither should anybody else._

Watching the bride and groom, Rio could see that they did love and care about each other, even if it wasn't the inflamed passion you read about in storybooks. Remembering the conversation she'd overheard in the library, Rio was glad for the fire that had prevented the marriage last spring. The two royals hadn't been ready to be married at that point.

At the same time, Rio couldn't help but feel challenged. Could she have done the same as these two- give up the chance to find romance elsewhere- for her country? No one here knew, but she was a royal just as they were. If she had grown up to shoulder the burdens of being a princess of Baria, would she have been as willing to sacrifice so much as her friends had been?

Rio was snapped out of her thoughts by a sudden burst of organ music. Startled, she looked at the altar, where Quinton and Kari were pulling out of a kiss. They had said their vows, and their marriage was sealed. _Trust me to be at the most significant event of the century and miss the most important part,_ Rio thought in annoyance. The bridesmaids and groomsmen began to exit, arm in arm. Rio took Quattro's offered elbow and strolled slowly and gracefully out of the cathedral like they had practiced all through March and April.

Once they were outside, Quattro helped her into the carriage- this time it couldn't be helped- and the two of them collapsed onto the seat, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness that's over," Quattro said. "I hate having to stand still for so long."

"I hate these shoes. They've been pinching my toes unmercifully ever since I put them on." She bent over to undo a few of the bazillions of buttons that kept the white boots on her feet.

"Rio! We still have the reception to go to!" Quattro exclaimed.

"So? My dress is long enough to cover my feet. Ah, that's better." Her traveling partner stared at her in wonder.

They were joined shortly by Trey, Iris, Hart and Kite, who had exited the cathedral behind them. Hat had been the ring bearer, and fortunately, he had been well enough to attend that day. Rio actually thought he looked remarkably well for an invalid, and being in a wheelchair hadn't hindered him at all. He and Iris had been excited to see each other, and now dove into the conversation, oblivious to the activities of their older siblings and friends. Kite, Rio noticed, had been unusually quiet. He hadn't made one sarcastic remark all morning.

The ride back to the palace was relatively short, not long enough for the blood to get back into Rio's feet, anyway. She almost fell several times while walking to the door because of the pins and needles, but Quattro always caught her, and soon her blood was flowing again.

This reception was nothing like a Barian party at all. There was no singing, dancing, heavy drinking, or fresh fruit and bread. Instead, everyone sat prim and proper around the tables with lacy coverings, chattering aimlessly. Tea and elegant sandwiches and cake were served. There was even a larger cake that Kari and Quinton cut holding the knife together. They each put a bit of it into the other's mouth at the same time while the audience clapped.

It was an okay celebration, but Rio was gripped with a strong desire to kick off her shoes, strip down to her slip (which would have been considered a perfectly ordinary summer dress in Baria), and start dancing. As it turned out, there actually was a bit of dancing at the reception, but it was nothing like the wild twirling and kicking of Barian dances. Instead, there were slow waltzes and minuets.

"Well, Rio?" Quattro asked, turning to her with a mischievous grin. "Would you care to dance?"

She stared at him. "Here? In front of all these people? Quattro, they're just waiting for me to make one 'uncivilized' mistake-"

"Oh, who cares what they think? Any girl who can face down Kite Tenjo can handle a dance with me."

"Very funny," the Tenjonian prince muttered. He still seemed distracted. Rio racked her brain over his odd behavior, but she just couldn't figure it out.

Even though waltzing wasn't anything like Barian dancing, Rio knew how to do it. She and Quattro had practiced several afternoons while he was helping her to learn Arclightian, since sitting in front of books and memorizing words got old fast. Rio found it funny, that her kind of dancing would have been appalling in Arclight, but Barians never would have danced a waltz. It would not be appropriate for a man to hold a woman's waist when she was not married to him, or to hold her so close. The most touching unmarried men and women did in Baria was holding hands.

However, because she had lived in Arclight since she was eight, Rio didn't feel all that uncomfortable. She was aware of stares and whispers, but they weren't her problem. If people wanted to be pompous windbags, that was their fault.

The waltz ended and the two partners bowed and curtseyed to each other. Rio was debating whether or not to accept if Quattro asked her for a second dance, when Kazuma Tsukamo stood up and raised his glass to the audience. The room fell silent as everyone waited for the father of the bride to speak.

"Today is one of the happiest days of my life," he began. "Today my daughter has been yoked in marriage to an honorable young man, the son of a respected friend. There is little more I could have hoped for her." He paused, and Rio noticed the careful choice of _could_ rather than _should_ or _would_. "Today has been a great day for her," Kazuma continued, "But it shall also become a great day for her brother, my son, Prince Yuma." Everyone's gaze turned to the young prince, who was attacking a bowl of ice cream. "I have decided to take Yuma on a six-month journey to see as much of Tsukamo as possible." There were murmurs of astonishment at this. "As he will hopefully never be saddled with the responsibilities as ruler, it will be his job to know the people of his country. This will be part of his coming of age, for when we return next fall, he will turn thirteen, and will no longer be a child." The Emperor raised his glass. "To my children, the future of Tsukamo. May their reign be as peaceful and prosperous as my own."

"To Tsukamo!" the guests cried, all raising their glasses of champagne.

Next it was King Byron's turn to make a toast. He spoke of his friendship with Lord Faker, Queen Dextra, and Emperor Kazuma, and how he hoped that it would be continued in the younger generations. Once again everyone raised their drinks to the new couple and the future, then drank to them. Then, to everyone's surprise, Kite got to his feet, holding no champagne.

"Speaking of the future of Heartland," he said, "I think you all should know that I've made a decision. I have realized that it is not my place to be the Lord of Tenjo, as Thomas will be King of Arclight and Kari Empress of Tsukamo. My place is among the stars, with the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon. So, I am abdicating the throne of Tenjo. My brother will rule our country." He sat down again, having nothing else to say.

The room was awkwardly silent. What was one to say? "Kite!" Lord Faker finally managed to croak out, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying exactly what I mean, father. I have chosen to be a Galaxy-Eyes master, not a ruler."

The chaos that followed would go down in Arclightian history as one of the most disgraceful scenes ever in the Arclightian palace. Lord Faker marched Kite out of the room, determined to bring him to his senses. Guests began talking among themselves hurriedly; discussing the scandalous news they had just heard.

Kazuma wanted to stay and make sure Lord Faker wasn't too hard on Kite, but Mira convinced him that now wasn't the time. Friends should only help in family conflicts after the initial fury had worn off. The Tsukamos said goodbye to Kari and took their leave, though they made it clear they wouldn't be leaving the country until after they were sure the Tenjos were alright. The newlyweds left soon after, and then, since there was no reason to stay longer, everyone else began to drift off. Hart, Trey, and Iris retreated to their rooms.

Rio was about to follow her sister when Quattro grabbed her arm. "Rio, can I talk to you out on the balcony?"

"Sure, Quattro." Rio didn't know what he might want to say, but she followed him out onto the balcony that ran all the way down the side of the palace on the entertaining floor anyway.

"Rio," Quattro began, "I was wondering if…if you ever though about…about doing what my brother did today."

"Getting married?" Rio asked, astonished. "Well, no Quattro, nto really. At least, not for a very long time."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Well, there isn't any way for me to get married now, is there? My life- my family- is all across the sea." Her voice trailed off as the full impact of what she was saying hit her.

"But couldn't you marry someone here? Settle down and raise a family here?"

"Quattro, you know that's impossible."

"Why?" he pleaded with her. "What is there for you back in Baria?" He looked at her shocked and anguished face and immediately regretted having asked the question. "Your brother is back there," he said quietly. "I forgot."

"Yes," Rio nodded. "My brother is back in Baria. My loyalty is with him first. Someday, I'm not sure how or when, but someday Iris and I will see him again, and we'll go home and try…and try to rebuild what we lost."

Quattro felt his heart sink. "I wouldn't have expected anything less," he said. "But, I'll miss you when you go."

She turned towards him, looking more beautiful in the evening light than he had ever when her. "I'll miss you too, Quattro. You've been a good friend to me, and I am glad I got to know yo, despite the circumstances of our acquaintance."

Quattro grinned at her, and their conversation moved to other things, but deep down his heart ached. He wanted to be so much more to her than a friend.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Love is still in the air, and it's begun to drift.**


	26. I Have Dreamed

Vector and Kylie were up to something. Both Marya and Shark knew it, though they hadn't discussed it with each other. If the two conspirators thought they were being discrete, they were wrong. Or Shark and Marya had just become super sensitive to reading people's behavior- specifically guards'-during their time in the fields. And there was more than just looks between Kylie and Vector. They would often be huddled up together, whispering, but when Shark or Marya entered the room; they would immediately separate and assume innocent expressions.

Shark had almost made up his mind to say something to them, when the long-awaited day (at least for Kylie and Vector) arrived. In all actuality, it was more of a long-awaited evening. Shark was sorting through stacks of Vector's papers, all of them written in various languages and part of multifarious stories, whether his own or those like _The Princess Bride_ that he had simply wanted to translate. Shark shook his head. How in the world was he supposed to complete the translation of a single book if parts of it were all over the place?

He had just finished when Vector himself burst into the room. "Guess whattoday is, Shark?" He said excitedly, practically dancing around the room.

"What is it?" Shark asked wearily.

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you forgot your own birthday!"

Shark started. "My…birthday?" Of course, Shark knew that today he turned thirteen, but he hadn't expected Vector to remember it.

"Come on, come on!" The Prince said impatiently. "Kylie and I have a surprise for you downstairs. Come on!"

Shark allowed himself to be pulled out of the room and through the palace corridors, still trying to get over the surprise of Vector's remembering his birthday. So, a birthday surprise had been what they two conspirators had been up to. But why hadn't Marya been involved?

The two boys reached a large, inner courtyard, facing an inner garden and covered by a stone roof held up with pillars. It was brightly lit with candles, and in the center was a table laden down with food- soft flat bread, fruit, roast beef, and cider. Standing by it was Marya. Her hair, having grown back to almost its original length, was combed neatly and freshly cleaned, so it shined in the candles' flicker. She was wearing a purple dress, and Shark almost stopped breathing when he saw her. Because of her short hair and baggy clothes, he had never noticed… _her._

Marya smiled shyly at Shark, seeing him notice her so completely. "Happy birthday, Shark," she greeted him. Managing to tear his gaze away from her, he looked around in amazement.

"What is all this?"

"It's your birthday present!" Vector exclaimed, hopping from one foot to another. "And Marya's, too, actually."

Kylie smiled apolitically. "Marya happened to mention to me that she was born only two sunrises after you, so I came up with this idea."

"Mom gave us everything so we could make it work," Vector said. "She's the one who got Marya the dress."

"Empress Vivian?" Shark asked, trying to remember the Barain Emperor of Astrania that had some to his father's palace for council meetings. He had gathered that she had secluded herself ever since Domitian's betrayal, apparently unable to face the people she felt she had let down. He had thought about going to her and explaining his situation, and what had happened in his home country, but it wouldn't have done any good. She was powerless against her husband's wrath.

"Yes," Marya said, giving him a twirl. "What do you think?"

"What? Oh, it's good. It looks good on you, I mean," Shark stammered out. The two of them blushed synchronously.

Kylie took the opportunity and elbowed Vector in the side. "Oh, um, we'll leave you two alone now," the ginger head said. "This is an exclusive birthday party." He and Kylie tip-toed out, leaving Shark and Marya to their own devices.

The first part of the meal was awkward, to say the least. They exchanged pleasantries and then ate in silence, every so often glancing at each other, but quickly looking away if their eyes met. Finally, Marya decided to be bold. "So, Shark, we've known each other since we were nine, and now we're thirteen, and I still don't know what your real name is."

Shark considered this for a moment. "If you don't want to call me Shark, you could always call me Reginald. It's pretty close to my name, in Heartlandish."

Marya looked surprised. "Is that why Kylie chose it? She always just said that it seemed to fit you somehow."

"No, she didn't know. It was purely coincidence." He hesitated. "Actually, none of you know my real name. I'd prefer it to stay that way."

Marya nodded slowly. "Alright. If that's what you want." The silence recommenced, and lasted all the way through the meal, until they stood up and moved to the garden, looking up at the stars. Marya sighed. "I wish we had some music. It's been so long since I've heard some good Salkie music."

"Do you have a particular song in mind?"

Marya thought for a moment. "I always liked 'I Have Dreamed.' Lanu used to sing it while she worked around the house, even though it was technically a duet."

Shark concentrated hard for a moment. Then, to Marya's utter surprise, he began to hum, the familiar tune, slowly and brokenly at first, but then he remembered more and more and the tune got stronger. Then, he began to sing the words.

" _I have dreamed that your arms are lovely._

" _I have dreamed what a joy you'll be._

" _I have dreamed every word you whisper_

" _When you're close, close to me._

" _How you look in the glow of evening-_

" _I have dreamed and enjoyed the view._

" _In these dreams, I've loved you so,_

" _That by now I think, I know_

" _What it's like to be loved by you._

" _I will love being loved by you."_ He stopped and looked at Marya. "I can't remember the rest," he said. "I didn't spend a lot of time on it, since it was a duet, and I didn't have anyone to sing it with."

"You studied music?" Marya asked.

He nodded. "It was my favorite subject."

Marya didn't know what to say next, so she resumed the song, singing the next verse.

" _Alone and awake, I've looked at the stars,_

" _The same that smile on you._

" _And time and again, I've thought all the things_

" _That you were thinking too._

" _I have dreamed that your arms are lovely._

" _I have dreamed what a joy you'll be._

" _I have dreamed every word you whisper_

" _When you're close, close to me._

" _How you look in the glow of evening-_

" _I have dreamed and enjoyed the view_

" _In these dreams, I've loved you so,_

 _"That by now I think I know,_

Shark joined her for the final lines,

" _What it's like to be loved by you!_

" _I will love being loved by you."_

They trailed off, the tune fading. Marya looked up at Shark, her green eyes glowing in the darkness. "I have to admit Shark, I have thought about you. What it would be like to…to love you. Please, tell me now, whether or not you feel the same."

He looked down at her, because he did have an inch or so on her, his indigo eyes more captivating than ever. He slowly, hesitantly, eased his hands onto her waist, leaned down, and kissed her. It was a soft, sweet kiss- nothing passionate or aggressive- and still Marya found herself unable to breathe.

Shark pulled back and breathed shakily. "What do you think?" he asked.

Form their carefully chosen hiding place, Vector and Kylie clasped each other's hands. They're matchmaking skills were even better than they'd hoped.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Everything comes crashing down and is lost.**

* * *

 **I do not own "I Have Dreamed." All rights belong to Rogers and Hammerstein.**


	27. Caught!

" _And you are sure of this?"_

" _Positive, my liege."_

" _Very well. Gather the best of your men and be ready to end this once and for all."_

" _Of course, your highness." The guard stood and exited the room, closing the door softly behind him._

 _Emperor Domitian turned towards his fire place, fists clenched, the flames reflecting the fury that burned in his eyes. "So, Vector, you thought you could hide things from me?You shall pay the price for your stupidity!"_

"You are wonderful!"

"Thankyou."

"I admitted you are better than I am."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I know something you don't know."

Marya held her breath, watching the duel progress. It was the fight between Inigo and the Man and Black from _The Princess Bride_ , portrayed by Vector and Shark respectively. The Man in Black was the more heroic character, but because Marya was playing the part of Buttercup, Vector had given his role to Shark. Vector himself was content to be a fencing wizard, as Inigo was described in the book.

"And what is that?" Shark asked, wielding his sword expertly.

"I am not left-handed!" Vector cried, throwing his sword up in the air. Marya felt Kylie stiffen next to her. They had had several accidents during this scene, which was why they were practicing it now, without costumes or scenery. This time, however, Vector caught the hilt in his opposite hand smoothly, and there were no mishaps. Both women breathed a sigh of relief.

Vector was able to fight with both hands because Shark had trained him to be ambidextrous. Vector had hated fighting before Shark became his teacher, but now, because he could link it to his favorite pastimes, specifically reading and writing, it became more bearable. (Vector still didn't like the idea of slaughtering anyone in battle).

Meanwhile, he held Shark captive in the corner of the room. "I think…I should…tell you something," Shark gasped out, short of breath from the exercise.

"Really?" Vector grunted.

"Yes." Shark grinned. "I'm not left handed either." With one swift motion, he threw Vector off him and switched hands. Marya clapped her hands in excitement. She knew it was just playacting, but it was still so _thrilling!_ The duel continued on, until finally Vector was disarmed and fell to his knees.

"Kill me quickly," he requested. Before Shark could utter a word, the doors to Vector's room burst open, and there, fuming in rage, was Emperor Domitian.

"What is the meaning of this? Vector, you would allow a _slave_ to point a _weapon_ at your _throat?"_ He snatched the sword from Shark's grasp. "Seize him!"

"No!" Vector cried as the guards grabbed his friend and pinned his arms behind his back. "Father, I can explain-"

"Silence!" Domitian thundered. "I don't want to hear any of your explanations!" While they were speaking, the guards that weren't holding Shark searched the room. They found piles of books written in various languages, papers that had been used to practice Heartlandish letters, half-completed translations, and some of Vector's plays.'

"What is all this?" Domitian demanded when he had looked it over. "What have you been wasting your time doing?"

"I- I've been learning new languages, father," Vector stammered out. "See, that one's Salkie, and that one is-"

"You don't need any languages!" Domitian spat. "You need to know how to fight! How to completely crush your enemy! You need to learn battle tactics! Only those will help you become a great ruler! I will not have my own son disgrace the name of Astrania!"

"Why do we have to go to war, father?" Vector pleaded. "Why can't we just have peace? Why can't we be friends?"

"Friends? An Emperor does not need friends, only servants."

"You're wrong!" Vector cried.

Domitian stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"I-I said you were wrong. Everyone needs friends, especially Emperors."

Vector's father was so angry he couldn't speak. He stood trembling, his fists clenched by his sides. Then, he whirled on Shark, who was silently cheering for the ginger-haired prince. Vector had finally found the courage to stand up to his father. "You!" Domitian roared. "You put these ideas into his head! You've turned his against me!"

"You did that yourself, a long time ago," Shark retorted. Domitian backhanded him so hard that the guards holding him staggered from the force of it.

"And you!" Domitian growled as he turned to Kylie. "I suppose you are the one who's been teaching my son this Heartland language?" He held up a paper, which bore neat Heartlandish letters in Vector's hand.

Yes," Kylie said quietly, not hesitating for an instant. There was no telling how Domitian would have released his fury if one of his guards hadn't come up to him, holding some of Shark's clothing.

"Your majesty, it seems your son has given his slave some of the finest clothing in the kingdom to wear. Also, we found this." He held out a package, wrapped in a strip of cotton. Shark's breath caught in his throat. It was the locks of Marin's and Iris's hair.

 _No!_ He thought. _I can't lose the only thing I have left of my sisters!_

"So," Domitian said, turning back to his son, "Not only do you treat your slave as an equal, _befriend_ him, and allow him to converse openly with you…" He unwrapped the cloth to reveal the now old locks of hair "…You also allow him to keep his own possessions!"

"Shark is a person, Father," Vector said, choking back sobs. "Nothing you do is going to change that. And nothing you say is going to make me claim ownership over him. It's something I cannot and will not do."

Domitian inhaled sharply. He almost looked like he was going to explode. Then, suddenly, he turned to Shark and smirked in triumph. He walked over to the fireplace and dropped the cloth he was holding and its precious contents into it.

"No!" Shark cried, trying desperately to free himself and save the last piece of the happy life he had once known.

"Guards!" Domitian snapped, ignoring him, "Burn all of these wasteful indulgences. Take the women to the dungeons. I will decide their punishment later.

"Marya!" Shark gasped as she and Kylie were seized and dragged away.

"Father! No! Leave them alone!" Vector begged.

"Shut up!" Domitian yelled, slapping him. Helplessly, Vector stood by and watched as piles of hard work and devotion were burned. When his father's guards were finished, he knew there would be only Astranian war documents left. Finally, Domitian turned to the soldiers holding Shark. "Take him to the dungeons and make sure he has absolutely no means of escape."

"Don't worry about me, Vector. I'll be fine. Remember our code!" Shark cried out desperately in Heartlandish as the guards made to carry him off.

"What was that?" Domitian leapt forward and grabbed Shark's tunic, yanking him all the way off the floor. "What did you say to him?" Shark spat in Domitian's face. The Emperor's grip on him tightened. "For every act of defiance, you will scream a thousand times!" he hissed.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Domitian plots to make his son and his friends suffer.**


	28. Punishment

**Whoops! Why do they make these things alphabetical?**

Vector sat curled up in a corner, rubbing his arms for warmth. There hadn't been a fire lit in this room for many rains- almost 30- and since Domitian had given orders that no one was to go in or out, no one had come to light the fire, or even a single candle. For this reason, the room was dark too, which made it all the spookier. Vector shivered and hugged himself tighter. There were blankets on the bed across the room, but Vector didn't dare touch them. They hadn't been changed since Vector's grandmother, Domitian's mother, had died. That was the reason his father had ordered Vector to be locked in here. He knew that his son was frightened of the ghost that was said to haunt this room.

The Empress who had ruled before Domitian had been ruthless and iron-handed, so it was no surprise that people thought she still lingered, ready to put anyone who stepped out of line back in their place. Vector had been terrified of this shade as a child, and even now he was having trouble convincing himself it was all a tale. The shadows seemed to converge in odd shapes, and he was sure he saw flashes of eerie light, like the light of a lost soul.

Vector clenched his eyes and mouth shut and tried to resist the urge to scream in terror.

* * *

Marya's body ached everywhere. She had become soft while living in luxury, and now her body protested at just a morning's work. She and Kylie had been kept in a dungeon cell for an unknown period of time- she guessed at least three sunrises had passed- and it had smelled so foul and been so dark that she'd wanted nothing but to get out of it.

When they finally had been taken out, they'd been given a short, cold bath and simple coarse clothes to wear. They had then been taken to the kitchens and immediately put to work scrubbing, chopping, stirring, dying, etc. Marya had also been given the responsibility of hauling buckets of water to the stables whenever they were needed, which was quite often. The buckets were solid oak and heavy- even without water in them. Marya was yelled at if she spilled any, but her ears were boxed if she didn't hurry. The utter unfairness of it made Marya burn more than her sore ears did.

Being a field slave had been no picnic, but at least the guards had mostly left them alone. Here, she was at the beck and call of everyone who wasn't a slave like herself. Most of them didn't even bother to pay attention to her name. They called her "girl" or "slave", or sometimes far more unsavory names. And she couldn't do a thing about it. She was property; she had no say in anything anymore. For instance, although none of them knew her name, plenty of the stable workers had noticed _other_ things about her.

Already, a particular disgusting one was pining after her. She had learned of this when he'd come up behind her and groped her backside. She'd whirled on him and slapped his face, defending herself. He had proceeded to punish the rebellious slave who'd dared raise a hand against him. Marya had soon learned that complaining wouldn't solver her problem.

"So what if he touched you?" The head cook had asked scornfully. "You're no high and mighty lady. You should be flattered."

 _Flattered?_ Was that how Lanu was supposed to have felt when those men violated her, _flattered?_ It was all levels of disgusting. But the only thing she could do about it was avoid the slime who was after her, and she went out of her way to do so. She wished she could talk to Kylie about it; ask the Heartlandish woman's advice- they had become good friends over the seasons they had known each other- but they had been given different duties and were kept apart most of the time. When they did meet, both of them were too busy to stop and talk.

On top of all this was Marya's anxiety about Shark. The look of hatred in the Emperor's eyes when he'd looked at her friend had frightened her. She was terrified that he might have already killed him, simply in a fit of rage.

* * *

Shark wasn't dead yet, but he soon would be if his treatment remained the same. Domitian's guards hadn't ignored their ruler's instructions to make sure Shark couldn't get away. His arms were shackled to the wall behind him, held above his head, effectively immobilizing him. His ankles were also chained to the floor in front of him. The cell was pitch black and damp, and it smelled terrible, but even this wasn't the worst art of his imprisonment. The worst part was the gnawing hunger that came with not being fed at all during his time down here. They had given him a cup of water every now and then to keep him alive, but Shark was beginning to wonder if his father's murderer had decided to starve him to death.

He shifted uncomfortably, his arms and legs having gone numb from lack of movement, and tried not to think about food. Shark had only been able to keep himself sane while trapped in this dungeon by going over important information over and over again. _My name is Nash. My twin sister's name is Marin, and my other sister's name is Iris. My father's name was Ralphenom and my mother's name was Toria. My best friend's name is Dumon. My-_

The door to his cell creaked open and Shark found himself blinking in the bright light from outside. It wasn't really that bright at all, being the light from an underground passageway, but after being in pitch blackness for so long, it might as well have been broad daylight to Shark. The only time anyone came into his cell was when he was brought his cup of water, and the last one had been too recent for them to bring him another one now.

"Ah, Shark." It was Domitian. "I hope you've been enjoying your time here."

"It's been quite pleasant, thank you."

Domitian smirked at him. "I'm sure you've been driving yourself crazy, wondering what I'm going to do to punish you."

"No, not really." Domitian slapped him, sending his head crashing into the stone wall of his cell.

"You know, Shark, I believe there are three parts to every effective punishment," he continued on as if nothing had happened. "There is pain, humiliation, and condition. Pain and humiliation I'm sure you understand, but I also intend to get inside your head. To condition you so that you never even _think_ about forgetting your place again."

"It's rather had to think about forgetting something, isn't it?" Shark asked, gritting his teeth through the pain. All traces of Domitian's easy manner vanished. He grabbed Shark's chin harshly and twisted his head purposely at a painful angle.

"Before this is over," he hissed, "You will beg me for death. But you won't get to die, Shark, not until you realize that you are _nothing_ compared to me, that I own you! Only when pleasing me is your only thought will I consider killing you and ending your pitiful existence!"

Domitian stormed out of the cell, red-faced and breathing hard. What was it about that infernal brat that made his blood boil? He hadn't even hadn't even hated his father that much, and Emperor Domitian had despised Emperor Ralphenom plenty. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. _I'll have the last laugh,_ he thought. _If what Heartland told me is true, then I have all I need to break him. What little spirit he has left will be crushed soon enough._

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Shark's punishment begins with humiliation.**


	29. The Humiliation

Shark's anxiety was growing by each passing moment. How long had he been here? He wished he knew. That morning- it must have been that morning because he was sure he hadn't been standing here all night- guards had come and removed him from his cell. He had braced himself for the beginning of Domitian's punishment, but it hadn't come. It _still_ hadn't come, which was why he was so jittery. He kept telling himself that he couldn't let Domitian get to him, couldn't let him control his thoughts like this, but it didn't help. He was still jittery.

Of course, it was also highly unusual that he had been given a bath and some new clothes- including a new pair of sandals. The shoes weren't at all sturdy or practical, as one would expect a slave's shoes to be. Rather, they had been made purely for decoration, for someone of important. _Of course, they could also be seen as an ornament on a favorite slave,_ Shark thought bitterly. His new clothes consisted of a white tunic and black trousers, slightly less fine than the shoes, but still not from a slave's wardrobe.

After being cleaned and dressed, Shark had been brought here, to a hall outside a banqueting room. His hands were bound in front of him and he was blindfolded, for what reason he didn't know. It was really starting to put him on edge, not knowing all these things. The only thing that did make sense with what he knew about Domitian was the cold metal collar around his neck, and the chain he could feel hanging from it. Thoughts of the last time he had been forced to wear such a device crowded his mind, and he prayed that this wasn't going to be like that. The image of Rabar's lifeless form on the marble was still clear in his memory, and he quickly shook his head in an attempt to get it out, jangling his chain in the process.

* * *

" _You're sure it will work?"_

" _Absolutely. Just get me the original and my man can make an exact copy, down to the very weight and density."_

" _All right, Heartland. But if you're wrong, you'll be next."_

* * *

Shark's feet were killing him. He wanted nothing more than to sit down, but he didn't dare, not knowing whether or not he was being watched. A loud grinding noise startled him, making him jump. It was followed by a suddenly audible group of voices; men, it sounded like.

 _They must have opened the doors to the banquet room,_ Shark realized. He tensed, unsure of what was coming. A powerful yank on his chain nearly pulled him off his feet, and he was forced to run forward to avoid falling. Unable to see where he was going, he stretched out his bound hands in front of him and tried frantically to keep his balance. He was unable to prevent himself from tripping and falling when he reached the dais, however; since it was raised by a small staircase. He bashed his knees against the hard stone and bit his lip hard to avoid crying out.

Domitian's dark chuckle came from above him, and he was grabbed by his hair and hauled the rest of the way up to the throne. "Well, men. Look who's come to join us." There was laughter around the room. The blindfold was pulled off and Shark found himself staring at a group of Domitian's closest allies: merchants, governors, generals, etc.; all laughing at his expense. "And now that my pet has arrived," Domitian continued, "We can begin! Bring out the feast!"

Servants and slaves flooded in, placing platters, bowls, pitchers, and goblets on the tables. Domitian was served separately on his throne and Shark, by way of his leash, was kept sitting at his feet, rubbing his sore knees. Shark's stomach growled in hunger and his mouth watered at the sight of all the food, but he forced himself not to react. Of course, Domitian had planned all this, and he knew exactly how hungry Shark was.

"You want some, pet?" He asked, chewing on a drum stick. "You'll have to earn. Show my guests here a trick I taught for you- beg for us." The diners' attention was caught, and they waited to see what would happen.

 _He wants to humiliate me,_ Shark thought, remembering what Domitian had told him about punishment. _Well, I won't give him the satisfaction._ Sealing his lips tightly, Shark turned away, despite his protesting stomach. Domitian laughed heartily.

"Oh, well. Perhaps my pet is not as hungry as I thought." He patted Shark on the head, and the boy jerked away as though burned. Smirking, Domitian dragged Shark back to him with the chain. "Come now, pet," he said, pinning his slave to his throne and almost strangling him in the process. "Be good and sit quietly at your master's feet." Shark gritted his teeth, but remained where he was when Domitian released the chain. His face was red from lack of air, and he had no desire to be choked again.

The meal continued on after this spectacle, until the food had dwindled and the tables were being cleared, and Shark allowed himself to hope that the first part of his punishment- the humiliation- was almost over, and that the worst had passed. He should have known better.

"Now men, let's have some fun and games," Domitian suggested when dinner was officially over. "How about a good old-fashioned game of catch? Come over here and spread yourselves out in a circle." There were murmurs of confusion around the room, and a cold feeling of dread settled in Shark's empty stomach. Watching Domitian's guests forming themselves into a lumpy circle, the light suddenly disappeared and he was plunged back into darkness as Domitian retied the blindfold around his eyes. "Have at him, boys!" He cried, throwing Shark off the dais onto the floor.

Shark landed hard, pain shooting through his already bruised knees and palms, but he didn't have any time to recover, because the men surrounding him had caught onto what their leader had in mind, and it was better for Shark to suffer than for them to make him angry. Most of them didn't have any qualms about the idea anyway. They hauled up the slave boy, still bound, collared, leashed, and blindfolded, and began their game of "catch." Unable to see for defend himself, Shark staggered between them, struggling to keep his bearings. The men had no consideration for him, even finding it funny to disorient him by spinning him around and around, wrapping him up in his leash, before pushing him towards the next player. It was degrading, especially when he tripped and fell flat on his face, causing his tormenters to laugh.

The guests pursued with the demeaning activity for what seemed like forever, until finally, _finally_ Domitian called it to a stop. Shark crashed to the floor, too dizzy to do anything else, panting, battered and bruised, but it wasn't over yet. The worst was yet to come.

"I've had the very best wine brought out for this occasion," the Emperor announced. "And I know you all brought your particular favorites or specialties for after the meal. However, with so many important officials here tonight, it's very possible that some of it might be poisoned. So, I suggest we make my pet taste them all, just to make sure."

Shark felt the pressure on his throat and was forced to half-crawl, half-stagger back to his master's side. Using a meat knife, Domitian sliced through Shark's bindings. "You don't need these anymore," he said. The Emperor then raised the goblet of wine to Shark's lips, and, gripping, his hair, forced his head back. With little choice, he swallowed a few gulps of the wine. It didn't taste too bad, but the real impact came a few moments after it had gone down. Shark reeled under the impact as the alcohol hot his empty stomach, and he staggered backwards a few steps.

Domitian laughed at the effect the wine had on his slave. "Your turn, boys! Which one of you can cause the biggest reaction in my slave?" He knew that pitting his men against one another was the best way to get a really good show.

Eagerly, the men dragged Shark off the dais- this time he actually managed to keep his footing- and another drink was forced down his throat. This time it was a light beer, though he didn't know enough about alcoholic beverages to realize it. Frantically, Shark commanded his brain to function. Domitian knew that he had an empty stomach and that drinking even a normal amount of alcohol would get him drunk. It he was drunk, he would lose his awareness, and if he lost his awareness… Another flask was pushed at him, but this time he was ready. As the clear liquid came out- vodka this time- Shark sealed his lips tight and didn't allow any to enter his mouth. Instead, it poured down his front and soaked through his shirt, but he didn't care. It was better than the alternative.

"Did you see that?" The man who had brought the vodka cried angrily. "The filthy slave refused my drink. Well, I'll just have to _make_ him take it!" A violent kick to the shin sent Shark sprawling- as well as gasping in pain. Domitian's guests flipped him over on his back, and then the one whose vodka Shark had rejected straddled him, effectively pinning him down. Trapped and panicked, Shark thrashed under him, desperately trying to throw the confiscating weight.

"Hold him down!" the man yelled, and many sets of restraining hands grabbed his legs and arms to keep him still. Utterly helpless, Shark tried to calm down. The more he struggled, the more amused Domitian would be, he reminded himself. But his attackers weren't down yet.

The man with the vodka grabbed Shark's nose, cutting off his air. Instinctively, Shark opened his mouth, and the vodka was forced in before he could even draw a single breath. He coughed and gagged, but his captor didn't let up. "Swallow all of it, you worthless scum," he hissed. Desperate for air, Shark managed to gulp some of it down, hoping they would let him up once he did.

When the vodka was gone, the man sealed his flask and turned to his companions. "That is how you get a slave to behave." As the hard liquor began to take effect, Shark squinted and blinked, trying to clear his vision, feeling very strange. He only dimly remembered the rest of that night. Each of Domitian guests took a turn sitting on him and forcing him to drink their preferred beverage. He tasted beers, liquors, cocktails, wines, and even coarse moonshine. He swallowed it all as fast as he could, because only when he'd finished would they let him up for air. All the while, the men laughed at and insulted him. Shark had never felt so weak or vulnerable. He outranked all of them; he was an _Emperor,_ for all the good it had done him.

After that night, Shark would never think of himself as a crown prince again, when he thought of his life before slavery at all. For his part, Domitian enjoyed the show thoroughly, especially when the impertinent brat got drunk and didn't have control of himself anymore. In all the excitement, the Emperor was the only one who noticed Heartland slip in and claim his prize.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Domitian continues to punish Shark, this time through unbearable pain.**


	30. The Flogging

The first thing Shark was aware of when he came to was a pounding headache. Groaning, he opened his eyes and blinked, trying to accustom them to the light. What had happened? He shifted a tiny bit and immediately went still once more. The pain in his head had gotten infinitely worse with the movement. For a few long moments, he lay on his back, trying to recall what had happened the last time he had been awake- whenever that had been. He remembered being blindfolded, and sitting by Domitian's throne...The vodka. Being pinned down while they forced him to drink. It came flooding back to him all at once, and he suddenly felt sick.

It happened so fast that his body barely had time to process it. His stomach rebelled against him, and his whole body tensed in apprehension. Acting on instinct, he turned over and pushed himself up onto his elbows, grimacing at the rush of pain to his head. He was just in time. His chest heaved and he threw up what was left in his stomach. It was mostly alcohol and acid, burning his throat as it came up. No wonder he had a headache, with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed last night- he was suffering from a headache.

When he had finished, he crawled a little bit away from it and collapsed, his muscles trembling and his head throbbing. A cold feeling around his neck had told him that the collar and leash were still there. Shark lay on the dining hall floor for a long time, every part of his body aching. Eventually he must have drifted back to sleep, because the next thing he knew he was being drenched in cold water.

"That will be all, thank you, Najursk." Domitian said. He knelt down next to his prey and smirked at him. "Have a good sleep?" Shark didn't acknowledge him. "I saw the mess you made. You'll have to clean that up." Again, the boy didn't respond. "Today you will face the second part of your punishment, Shark. Today you will discover a new world of pain and suffering." Domitian stood up. "But first, you'll have to clean this room until it's spotless. The sooner you're finished, the more lenient I'll consider being." With that, the conqueror swept out of the room.

It took Shark a while to even get his body to move, as well as several tires to get to his feet. Finally managing it, he was appalled at the state of the room he was supposed to clean. Furniture was knocked over, things had spilled all over the floor- one bottle was still dripping- and everywhere was piled up with dished and the remainder of the feast. Shark's face fell. How was he supposed to clean this mess in his current weakness? He could barely stand without swaying. Maybe if he just rested a little bit more, he'd feel better. It was risky, but he didn't have much choice.

Shakily, he walked to one wall of the room and sat down with his back against it. Staying as still as possible, he was relieved to find that his head stopped swimming, and his limbs stilled their trembling. He waited for a while, breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to help his body heal a little faster.

When he knew that he couldn't get away with doing nothing any longer, he forced himself to his feet and started on his task. He had been left buckets of water, soap, and rags to work with, to his surprise. How kind, he thought bitterly. The water, however, held more value to him than a simple cleaning material. To clear his head, he dunked his face in the cold liquid, as deep as it would go. It felt wonderful and helped to revive him even more. He also gulped down some of the water, suddenly realizing how dehydrated he was. Then, somewhat refreshed, he went to work.

He cleaned up what he had emptied out of his stomach first, and then focused on the rest of the room. Keeping his mind and hands occupied helped to prevent his mind from worrying about what Domitian had meant when he'd said "pain and suffering." Shark wanted to be brave, but after last night, he wasn't feeling very confident. After being with Vector for so long, he had forgotten just how much power the latter's father held over him.

When the room was finished, Shark's muscles hurt like heck, and he was almost as exhausted as he had been that first time he'd worked in the fields under the hot sun. Sliding to the floor, he closed his eyes, and was about to fall asleep, when his left hand passed over his right one. Shark's eyes snapped open. Something was missing.

Bringing his hands up to his face, he stared in horror at him bare ring finger. The ring- the platinum ring he wore to remind him of Marin- it was gone! He must have dropped it during the chaos of the night before. In a frenzy, Shark searched the room. Part of him k new he wouldn't find it- he'd already cleaned the whole hall until not a speck of dust was left- but he couldn't accept that it was really gone; that he had lost it. He was on his third scour of the room when the banquet hall doors opened, and Domitian strolled in.

With his enemy's appearance, Shark felt as though he'd been slugged in the stomach. There was no hope now. Domitian had taken the locks of his sisters' hair, and now his ring was gone too. He had failed.

Domitian didn't bother to address Shark this time around. "Take him," he ordered. The two soldiers he had brought with him- Barinek and Najursk- grabbed Shark's arms and slapped shackles on his wrists. They did remove the leash and collar though, much to his relief. With their Emperor in the lead, and Shark between them, the two guards marched through the castle, until they emerged in the back courtyard. As many slaves of the palace as could be fit in were there, and in front of them was a menacing-looking piece of scaffolding. The contraption held no noose for hanging, but rather two posts on either side with manacles for holding wrists.

Barinek leaned forward and whispered into Shark's ear, "At last, Sharky, I get to have my revenge for that stunt you pulled back on Saleed. His majesty had given me the honor of flogging you today."

* * *

Marya was in the crowd of slaves gathered in the courtyard, and she was not looking forward to what was going to happen. The whole procedure had ben explained to her by a more experienced kitchen slave. Here, rebellious slaves were either executed or whipped, and the other slaves were forced to watch, as a warning of what would happen if they too were disobedient. Marya seriously hoped these kinds of things didn't happen too often.

There was a commotion at the inner gate, and the crowd began to part, squeezing themselves backwards to allow the newcomers through. Murmurs of fear went through the slaves when they saw Emperor Domitian coming. Quickly Marya lowered her eyes and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. To her relief, he passed on by her without a second glance.

Following him were two soldiers, dragging the victim along with them. Daring to look up, she gasped. It was Shark. He looked thin and weak, and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. What had they done to him? As if feeling Marya's presence nearby, Shark searched the faces surrounding him until his eyes landed on her. For a brief moment, he smiled, and his eyes got back a little bit of their sparkle. Then, however, he was gone, and he was dragged past her.

The soldiers marched him up the scaffolding steps unceremoniously, not giving him a chance to put his feet down. Once on the platform, his shirt was stripped off, revealing faded scars from long ago suffering.

As one of the soldiers who had brought Shark in began preparing himself to carry out the punishment, there was a sudden commotion up on the balcony where Domitian was sitting. Marya's eyes widened when she saw Vector talking earnestly with his father, fear etched on his face.

"That's strange," a slave near Marya murmured. "Everyone knows Prince Vector doesn't attend these things because he hates the sight of blood." Marya hadn't known this little fact about her friend, but she knew he wasn't here because he wanted to be.

* * *

Vector had been frightened when his father's soldiers came to retrieve him from his grandmother's room. Where were they taking him? Why now? Numbly, he walked forward until they reached the balcony overlooking the back courtyard. Vector's heart sank as he realized where they were. This was the place his father used to execute and punish his enemies. Domitian himself was sitting on his royal chair, strategically placed with a perfect view of the proceedings.

"Ah, Vector," he said when he saw his son, "Come and sit next to me. We're in for a real treat today." Feeling sick, Vector took his seat, hoping that this wouldn't be what he feared it was. All hope faded when he saw Shark being dragged to the flogging post and chained in place.

"Father, no! He hasn't done anything wrong! You can't-" Domitian slapped him- hard- immediately silencing him.

" _I_ will decide who has done something wrong, and _I_ will decide how they are punished. This is what becomes of those you try to _befriend,_ Vector. Maybe you'll think about your friend's screams next time feel like making a friend out of your slaves."

Cradling his stinging cheek, Vector curled up in his chair, and despite his best intentions, began to cry.

After Vector had been frightened into silence, Domitian rose and addressed the crowd of slaves below him. "The slave you see before you is guilty of most atrocious act a slave can commit. He has openly defied the one who owns him- my son, Prince Vector. For his crime, he shall receive the punishment of one hundred lashes on the bare back!"

Gasps went through the crowd. A hundred lashes! Only one in every ten survived such great pain. "Barinek!" Domitian called down to the soldier, "You may begin when ready." Barinek tested the whip a few times, wanting to see his victim squirm.

Shark waited for the first blow, his shoulders rigid with anticipation. It came without warning. There was a whistle, a loud _crack!_ , and then a streak of fire across this back. Shark's body jerked, but he didn't cry out.

Marya wanted to turn away from the horrible scene, but she couldn't seem to force her head to , she counted every single lash, trying to push her way towards the end as fast as she could. The seventeenth blow was the first time Shark made noise, a kind of groan as if he was holding back a scream and not fully succeeding. _18, 19, 20…_ When the thirty-second lash came, Shark screamed for the first time, the pain becoming too much. _33, 34, 35…_ By the seventy-third, Shark could only sag and let out small whimpers. _74, 75, 76…_

Tears were streaming down Marya's face, but she didn't even notice. _98, 99…100._ She breathed out a sigh of relief, her knees feeling ready to buckle under her. It was over.

On the platform, Shark hadn't kept count, but he knew his punishment was over anyway. Raising his head, he looked up at Domitian, meeting the man's eye. The Emperor was grinning in triumph, and Vector was in tears. Shark didn't have the voice to call out to them, but his smile said all that he needed to. Domitian's grin faded and his face turned an odd shade of purple, while Vector, initially surprised, managed a small smile back. This was the last thing Shark saw before his body gave out and he lost consciousness.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Domitian finally accomplishes what he's been wanting for five rains, and finds out that it isn't as satisfactory as it should have been.**

 **For anyone who can find the reference I made to the original TV show in this chapter, I'll send you a scene from** _ **Book 6: Fight**_ **.**


	31. Shark Breaks

"Ah!" Marya gasped and dropped the knife she'd been using with a clatter. She'd cut herself yet again. It was only a nick, really, and she quickly put her finger in her mouth and sucked on it to stop the bleeding. Cutting vegetables shouldn't have been that hard, but it was almost impossible to focus between the tears in her eyes and the ache in her chest. It had been two sunrises since the flogging, and she didn't know whether or not Shark had survived. That last she'd seen of him, he'd collapsed on the flogging post, held up only by his shackled wrists. Domitian had, for some reason, suddenly become very angry and ordered everyone out. No one had waited to find out what would happen if they disobeyed. Marya took her finger out of her mouth and picked up the knife again to continue with her chore.

"You! Girl!" Startled by the shout, Marya jumped, but managed not to drop the knife this time. She turned to the head of the kitchen slaves, who was holding a bowl of water and a basket of clean rags. "The Emperor had demanded for someone to tend to the slave that was whipped a short time ago. He says that if his slave does not recover, he will have the one who tended him beheaded. Good luck." The bowl and basket were shoved into Marya's hands.

Was this really happening? Could she really be so fortunate? Marya knew the job had been pushed on her because everyone else was scared to take it, but she couldn't have wished for anything more. With a light step, she hurried out of the kitchen. If she was being told to tend Shark's wounds, it meant he was still alive. She wasn't worried about Domitian beheading her; if Shark died on her watch, she'd kill herself at his side.

It took her a while to find out where Shark was being held, seeing as Domitian's dungeons were extensive and contained many levels, but after asking for directions from several rather rude guards, she found the row of cells she was looking for. Approaching the least-threatening guard that there was to inquire which cell Shark occupied, she was surprised to discover a familiar face.

"Weasel! What are you doing here?"

The young man, now sixteen, jumped, but his face filled up with astonishment when he saw her. "Marya! What are you doing down here?"

"I'm here to take care of Shark," she told him. "How about you?"

Weasel sighed. "The Emperor has his own personal entourage guarding Prince Vector now. All of us who used to be the Prince's personal guards were reassigned. I was sent down here. I had no idea what had happened to any of you until they brought Shark in…" he trailed off, the horror of what he'd seen evident in his eyes.

Marya quickly filled him in on what had happened to Kyle and herself, as well as what details she knew about Shark. He showed her where their friend was being kept, but seemed hesitant to come into the cell with her.

"It's not like anything I've ever seen, Marya. The amount of pain he must have been in… Don't blame yourself if you can't save him." He went back to his post, leaving her to her task.

The cell was dark and damp, resulting in a rather unpleasant smell. Lying on a straw mattress in the corner was Shark, his breathing ragged, and his back a mass of blood. Marya rushed to him and quickly felt his forehead for any sign of an infectious fever. It was slightly warm, but not burning hot, much to her relief. She set about cleaning his wounds, revealing the deep welts that had bled so profusely. "Oh, Shark," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

For the nest moon, Marya cared for Shark as best she could. She was given only a short amount of time each sun cycle to tend him. Sometimes he was awake, but most of the time he remained unconscious from the blood loss. She snuck him food from the kitchen whenever she could, and Weasel provided bandages from the army's supply. Marya also did her best to keep Shark' cell clean, to avoid the risk of infection. Her efforts seemed to pay off. Slowly but surely, Shark began to recover. He was eventually able to talk with her during most of her visits. For the first time since Domitian had caught them, Marya began to hope that things would be alright. She couldn't have known that she was only healing Shark's wounds so Domitian could inflict far deeper ones.

Weasel and Marya weren't the only ones who were busy during Shark's recovery. Scritch, a metal worker employed by Heartland, was working on his biggest contract yet. He was determined to get it right, because he knew what the Emperor would do to him if he failed.

As for Domitian himself, he waited impatiently for everything to be in place for the final stage of his plan. Just a little bit more time and Ralphenom's son would cower at his feet. Finally, Heartland brought him the key to his ultimate victory.

"What did I tell you?" the green-haired man said proudly as he handed it over. "Scritch is the best in the business."

"I will determine that," Domitian said sternly. "Let me see the original." Heartland quickly gave it to him. As the Astranian ruler examined the two, a smile slowly spread over his face. "Perfect," he said gleefully. "Absolutely perfect. Now, you have the story memorized? We cannot afford any mistakes. The imp is clever." So, one last time, the two conspirators recited their yarn- a tale that would bring Shark more suffering than any whip.

When Marya was informed that that she wasn't to visit Shark anymore, pain and resentment flared up in her. According to the Emperor, he was healthy and no more medical attention was required. Returning to her regular routine, Marya determined that she would see him, no matter what that toad said. She loved him too much to not take risks for him. Of course, the nest time Marya saw Shark, the boy she had grown to love would be long gone, buried too deep to recover.

The first morning that Marya did not come to visit Shark, two others did- visitors that Shark would rather not have had. When Domitian and Hartland stepped into his cell, Shark immediately took up a defensive stance, bracing himself for the worst. Watching them warily, he saw that they both looked far too pleased with themselves. Shark's stomach twisted with anxiety when he remembered Domitian's words about the third part of his punishment- " _I also intend to condition you so that you never even_ think _about forgetting your place again."_ He had a bad feeling that that was what this was about.

"Shark," Domitian greeted him, "Lord Heartland has a story to tell you; and I'd advise you to pay close attention to what he has to say." Shark lowered his defenses- if only by a little bit- and waited to find out what the man who had betrayed his country had to say.

"Several months ago," Heartland began, "The gracious Emperor gave me leave for a vacation. Naturally, I went to all the normal places for relaxation and pleasure- I am well acquainted with some of the best brothels in this fine country, you know." Shark stiffened, not liking where this was going. "I enjoyed evenings with some of the best whores there are to be had in Astrania," the pig continued. "One of them was quite young- a beauty with contrasting blue hair, pale skin, and pink eyes."

Shark almost stopped breathing, but his face portrayed none of his emotion. _He's lying! He_ has _to be lying!_

Heartland had paused in his story, as if about to recount something of sorrow. "A little while later, I discovered that that lovely creature had killed herself. A shame, really. She was a very good lay. Seems she'd been in a state of depression ever since her little sister had died of a fever. The brothel owner was more than a little bit upset at their loss; both of them were rare jewels, he'd said, and could have brought him a lot of business. As it was, he sold me this to get a little cash to compensate."

He reached into his pocket and took out a plain, silver band. No, not silver, Shark realized. Platinum. "This had belonged to the older of the sisters. I bought it to help my friend out- losing two whores within a couple of moons is horrible business, you know. Imagine my surprise when I found an almost identical ring on the floor of his majesty's banqueting hall." Once again reaching into his pocket, Heartland brought out Shark's ring. Shark knew it was his because it had the exact same smudges and scratches on it. The other ring was a bit scratched up, but not the way Shark's was.

"After asking around, I discovered it was yours. That poor slut wouldn't happen to be a relative of yours, would she?"

Shark's heart was pounding. The walls were closing in on him and _he couldn't breathe;_ he felt as though he was drowning. He didn't want it to be true; it _couldn't_ be true, but the proof was right there in front of him. His sisters…Marin and Iris, for whom he had given up his freedom to protect, were dead. Marin had lived as a prostitute, used by countless men, and there was nothing he had done to stop them. He had abandoned them and now they were gone, lost to him forever. Everything he had suffered had been for nothing; he had failed. Emperor Nash's world shattered around him, the pain was too much to bear; why, _why_ would not blissful death take him too? The tormented soul opened his mouth and howled in agony.

The scream of despair echoed throughout the entire palace. In the kitchens, Marya and Kylie heard it. Locked in his grandmother's room, Vector heard it. Below the earth in the dungeons, Weasel heard it. Everywhere in the palace and on its grounds, people heard Shark's cry of anguish, but of all who heard it, only four knew how to describe it. Vector's, Kylie's, Marya's, and Weasel's minds all went back to _The Princess Bride,_ when Humperdinck had had pushed the Machine all the way to twenty.

"'… _and so, I would think, no one will ever suffer a loss as great as you' and with that he grabbed the dial and pushed it all the way forward and the Count cried,_

' _Not to twenty!' but by then it was too late; the death scream had started."_

" _The death scream rose higher in the night._

" _All the streets leading into the square were also filled with citizens, all trying to crowd into the Square, and they heard it, but once they admitted they were petrified, they gave up trying to guess what it might have been._

" _Inigo knew immediately._

" _In the tiny alley that he and Fezzik were trying to force their way through, he stopped, remembering. The alley led to the streets that led to the Square, and the alley was jammed too._

"' _I don't like that sound,' Fezzik said, his skin, for the moment, cold._

" _Inigo grabbed the giant and the words began pouring out: 'Fezzik- Fezzik- that is the sound of Ultimate Suffering…"_

No one was able to imagine what that sound may have sounded like until now. Now they knew. Now they knew the sound of Ultimate Suffering, and it was more ghastly than anything their minds could have produced.

Watching Shark writhe in agony, Domitian wanted to feel triumph and victory, but instead all he felt was…sick. Turning quickly, he left the cell, waking as fast as he could away from it. Something would have to be done. He could not keep the boy as his slave after witnessing that. He would have to cell him.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Domitian sells Shark…and in the aftermath, Vector finds the courage to openly defy his father.**


	32. Escape

Domitian didn't know why he suddenly didn't want to keep Shark as his personal slave. He had broken him; he had won, he should want to enjoy the spoils of his victory, right? And yet there was just enough of a human heart left in him to make him feel slightly guilty about the boy's suffering. He wanted no reminder of it. He couldn't let people see him _weak._ He had to get rid of him. Besides, there were other reasons to remove him, too, he argued with himself. Vector, for example. His pathetic excuse for a son had grown too close to that slave. The farther apart they were, the better he would feel.

Heartland was a useful man to know when you needed someone. Within two sunrises, he had found a slave trader that was setting sail soon, but was willing to take another slave on- at a fair price. The slaver's name was Chironex, and he was a descendant of the old Jelly Fish Clan- the clan that been rivals with the Shark Clan before the United lands had been united. Very few people still recognized the difference, but Chironex was one of them. He hated the descendants of the Shark Clan, and he liked even better the idea of owning a slave by the name of Shark- he had to have earned the name somehow- and making his life miserable. Of course, he had been informed that the slave was already broken, but an experienced slave breaker like Chironex knew there were many levels of breaking a slave. Heartland had given him details, and Chironex was willing to bet that this slave as only broken to the point of not having any spirit left. He didn't actually _fear_ his masters. Yet.

Domitian escorted Chironex to Shark's cell personally. When they arrived, Chironex almost turned around and left. Forget breaking the slave; he wasn't worth the trouble. The slave that was for sale was sitting in a corner of his cell, staring at nothing. He looked more dead than alive. For a moment, Chironex considered that he might actually be dead.

"Is he dead?" he asked, not one to be ripped off.

"No," the Emperor kicked the slave in the side. Shark's eyes widened slightly and he gasped at the pain. His actions confirmed Chironex's theory. This slave might have been broken, but he wasn't trained. He hadn't even acknowledged that his master had entered the cell. _Well,_ Chironex thought with a sly grin, _that will change._

Because she was no longer needed to tend to Shark's wounds, Marya had returned to her normal list of chores- including hauling water to the stables. It was her most hated task, but ever since the night that she had heard the scream, she had barely thought about it. She knew the scream had come from Shark, and it worried her. She went through her job numb with worry, not registering most of what was going on around her. Luckily she hadn't seen that touchy stable hand since she'd first been assigned to take care of Shark.

Marya was leaving the stables when something unusual caught her eye. A horse was held waiting on the long path that led to the palace's front gate. Someone was about to leave Domitian's castle. One of the stale workers was tying something to the horse's saddle, but she couldn't tell what it was. Then, he finished and stepped aside, and she saw-

"Shark!" Dropping her empty buckets, Marya sprinted towards her friend. Shark's hands were crisscrossed and tied behind his back, and a rope around his waist secured him to the saddle. "Shark! What's happening? Are you going somewhere? What's wrong? Shark, look at me." She grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her, peering up at his eyes. Her heart almost stopped. Shark's eyes, those blue depths that she had gotten lost in so many times… they were empty. Completely empty. There was no life, no hope, no sparkle in them at all. "Shark, talk to me," Marya pleaded. "Tell me you recognize me. Tell me you even know I'm here. Please-"

"You! Girl! Get away from my slave!" Marya turned to see a tall man with long, wavy blue hair stalking towards her, like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

"Your slave?" Marya asked, bewildered. "But, Shark is…he's the Emperor's personal slave. He would never sell him." _He likes to torment him too much._

"Well, he just did. Shark here belongs to me. Now move along before I lose my temper." Chironex swung himself up into the saddle and urged his beast into a brisk walk. Shark was dragged along behind. He didn't even look back.

Marya had never felt so helpless, so powerless, in her entire life- not when Domitian's guards had raped Lanu, not when Domitian had stormed in on them- never. But now her world was being turned upside down, and she had no idea what to do. Tears blurring her vision, she turned and ran. She didn't bother to pay any attention to where she was going; she just ran until she found a small corner of the stables that was unoccupied, and there she collapsed and sobbed and sobbed, because her heart was broken.

After the scream had died down two nights before, Vector had become determined to somehow break free of his grandmother's spooky room. He just knew that that scream had been Shark's, and that is was the result of his father's torture. After several methods that had only resulted in breaking his nails and scratching up his hands, he had finally managed to pick the lock on the door with a wire he'd found in one of the dusty corners. It had probably once been part of one of his grandmother's elaborate hair styles. Whatever purpose it had served before, it worked extremely well for him, and it wasn't long before he was free.

There were soldiers that tried to stop him, but their efforts were futile. He wasn't Prince Vector as he charged through the palace halls, the coward who hid in his room from his father; he was Ray Shadows, on a mission to rescue his friend Shark.

His heroic dash stopped short when his ears caught Lord Heartland's voice from behind a door he was passing… "Everything went according to plan, your majesty. The boy fell for it completely. He is yours to command. I can't understand why you've decided to sell him."

"There are a variety of reasons, Heartland, none of which I have to explain to you. However, because you have been such a great help to me, I will tell you some of them." Vector pressed his ear to the door. It was his father speaking. "First of all, I have finally broken Shark. There is no point in keeping him around anymore. Second of all, selling him brings in money, something that always comes in handy. Thirdly, Shark is Ralphenom's son- some will see him as the rightful heir to the throne of the United Lands. Some already call him 'Emperor Nash.' I can't have his sister- who is very much alive, according to you- coming back to rescue him and finding him in the first place she looks- my dungeons. Fourthly, I won't execute him because I don't believe in doing things half way. Ralphenom's brat will live out his life in servitude to another. He won't get to die until his suffering had exceeded every limit known to man!"

Vector felt like he was plunging down a huge ravine. Shark- Shark, his friend- was the rightful heir to the United Lands of the Pacific Ocean. Suddenly, all the pieces seemed to fit. Shark was educated, he had a ring made of a rare metal, and Vector's father hated him. But what had Shark fallen for? Vector clenched his fists as he mulled over his father's words- _"I have finally broken Shark."_

How dare he? How _dare_ he act like he had the right to toy with peoples' lives! Not stopping to think, Vector burst into the room and stormed over to his father. "What did you do to Shark? What trick did you use to break him?"

Domitian, at first, looked surprised. The he smiled. "Ah, Vector. Taking an interest in the affairs of an Emperor at last?"

"They're not the affairs of any Emperor I want to be. What. Did. You. Do?"

"I really shouldn't answer you, considering how disrespectful you're being. But, you should know the power an Emperor commands. You see these two rings?" He asked, nodding to two platinum bands on the table in front of him. Vector recognized them as being just like the one Shark wore, but where had they come from? "The one on the left is a copy made by a metal-working friend of Lord Heartland. The one on the right is the one that used to belong to your dear friend, Shark. We simply used them to convince him that his sisters were dead Quite ingenious, don't you think?"

"No! I think you're a coward, _your highness,_ to stoop to such low measures."

Domitian's face turned red. "How dare you speak to me that way!?"

"But it's true," Vector continued, refusing to be intimidated. "Shark is the real Emperor of the United Lands of the Pacific Ocean. You're _scared_ of him. You're sacred that the people will follow him and you'll lose all your power. He'd be a better ruler than you- you've always known that it's true, and you just can't stand it!"

"SILENCE!" Domitian shouted, jumping to his feet. "I will not listen to my own son talk this way about a _slave!"_

"I'd rather be his slave than your son," Vector said, his voice eerily soft. He moved so fast both members of his audience were taken completely by surprise. He leapt forward to grab his friend's ring and the copy, and Domitian caught on at the critical moment, and his fingers only closed on the fake. He turned and sprinted from the room. Domitian still had the original; it was the only one that mattered for the second part of his plan.

Vector dashed through the castle, only one thought on his mind. He had to get to the stable, get on his horse, and ride after Shark. He had to show him the fake ring and tell him what had really happened. He reached the stall of his mare- named Buttercup in honor of the princess bride- and pulled up short. Someone was crying.

Peering around the corner, Vector saw a familiar figure curled up on the floor, sobbing. "Marya? Marya, it's me- Vector! Marya talk to me." He knelt next to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Vector," Marya wailed. "He's dead! He'd dead!"

"Who's dead, Marya?"

"Shark!"

"Shark?" Vector was dumbfounded. "No- no, he can't be. He's-"

"He is! He's dead- dead on the inside. I saw him- I looked into his eyes and I saw…" She struggled to get a hold of herself. "I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's dead Vector. Dead on the inside."

"But there's a way to bring him back Marya." He showed her the phony ring that was still clutched in his hand. "My father and Heartland tricked him with this. If we tell him what really happened-"

"It's too late for that," a soft voice came from behind them. Vector whirled and around.

"Mother?" he gasped, shocked. Empress Vivian had left her chambers and had come outside into the light. She was a tall, willowy figure, and years of being shut away had turned her as pale as a ghost. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, like wind rustling softly in dead leaves.

"Your father sold your friend, son. I watched them leave from the window. I know now why your father was against 'giving' him to you. He is Ralphenom's son, Nash. I recognized him."

"Shark is Prince Nash?" Marya gasped, wide-eyed. She had known he came from a wealthy family, but she had never _imagined_ … "Then he's the rightful heir to the throne!"

Vivian nodded. "That is why Domitian hates him. That is why he has been made to suffer."

"But how did you know about all this?" Vector asked. "How did you know where to find us? How did you know that the slave who was leaving the palace was Shark? Why were you at the window in the first place?"

His mother smiled a little. "I had to occupy myself somehow. Spying on everyone in the castle was the most enthusing way to do it- and also the way for me to do the most good. For example, I knew about that rather uncouth stable hand that was bothering you…Mara, is it?"

"Marya, your highness."

"Marya, yes. Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that I had him dismissed. I've done my best to help you I could, though it hasn't done much." She paused. "I believe that's how you first made friends with Nash, correct?" This question was directed at Vector.

"You know about me pretending to be a servant and sneaking into the dungeons?" He asked, surprised. "I thought no one by Kylie knew."

Vivian smiled another one of her small smiles. "One thing you should always remember, Vector: mothers always know what their children are up to." Marya wondered how a woman like Empress Vivian had ended up married to a monster like Domitian.

"But it can't be too late!" Vector cried suddenly, remembering he predicament at hand. "We can go after him. We can stop-"

"Your father's troops are everywhere, son. You wouldn't get far beyond the palace gates."

"Then what are going to do?" Marya asked miserably. "We can't just sit around and wait for something to happen."

"There's only one thing to do," Vivian answered her. She glanced around warily, then stepped closer to them and whispered, "You must run from here. You must escape. The rebels are gathered in the west. My husband thinks I know nothing of their existence, but I have studied his maps and I think I have a good idea of where they're based. You must go and tell them about Nash. To know that the son of Ralphenom is alive would give them hope. They…they might be able to help you."

"Then I will go to them," Vector said determinedly. "It's about time I stopped hiding behind story books and started standing up for what I believe in. "Will you come with me, Marya?"

The green-eyed girl wiped her tears away and got unsteadily to her feet. "Yes," she said. "But, how will we get away? And what about Weasel and Kylie? We can't leave them behind."

"Who?" Vivian asked. Quickly Vector explained about their other two friends. "Oh, well, that's simple," his mother said. "I will simply request for them to become part of my entourage. They will be under my protection the, and I can direct them to you."

"But we still don't have a way to escape," Marya said. "There are guards everywhere. I could probably come up with an excuse, but they'll know you on sight."

"Not even my husband's men can stay awake all night, however unhuman they might seem," Vivian said grimly. "They switch when the moon is directly above them. There's a small space of time when no one is guarding the gate. That would be the only time you could slip out unnoticed."

"What do you mean, 'you'?" Vector asked. "Don't you mean 'we'? We can't leave you here, mother, if father finds out that you were involved, he'd…well, I don't know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be good."

The Empress hesitated. "I don't know if I should come with you," she said. "The people of Astrania elected me as their representative on the Imperial Council, and I failed them."

"No," Marya said firmly. "You didn't fail them, your highness. You care about your people; they know that- that's why they elected. You can still help your people the way you've helped us. But you can't do any more good here. Come with us and join the fight for freedom."

"You have to come with us, Mother," Vector insisted.

"Perhaps," Vivian whispered. "Perhaps." She smiled again. "It has been a long time since I have gone for a midnight ride." She took a deep breath. "We should try and meet at the western gate. If more soldiers start coming, get always fast as you can, even if not everyone is there."

Marya had decided that she liked Empress Vivian. She had courage and compassion, and Marya could see that Vector had inherited more than his violet eyes from her.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Dumon finally learns what really became of his best friends.**


	33. Joining the Rebels

Mizar had grown accustomed to sentry duty and was glad he had not had to give it up. As the new Chief, he had many new responsibilities, most of which were exhausting. But being a lookout was not one of those things. He enjoyed the time alone on the mountain ridges, with only Jinlon and Galaxy-Eyes for company. Mizar had always preferred dragons to people, which was why he had come to rely heavily on Dumon ever since Somatun's death. The young knight was much better at talking and relating to people. It was thanks to him that the rebellion had been able to function so well, without anyone being captured. Alito had come pretty close a couple of times, but the overly enthusiastic gladiator somehow always managed to get out unscathed. Girag probably had something to do with that; the giant warrior was very fond of the small wrestler.

The sudden stirring of Tachyon next to him alerted Mizar to be on his guard. The Galaxy-Eyes's excellent hearing always came in handy. Sliding into his hiding spot, where he could see the path, but no traveler could see him, the dragon tamer waited. It wasn't long before his own sharp ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps. As he watched, the strangest group of sojourners he had ever seen came into view. A thin boy with gravity-defying orange hair was in the lead, and leaning on him was a frail woman draped in a cloak that seemed to weigh her down. Following them was a very pale woman- her skin looked almost white from this distance- with long green hair. Next to her was a girl- or maybe a young woman; he couldn't tell- almost opposite from her in appearance. She was tan, and her medium-length hair was lavender with pink bangs framing her face. Each one of them was leading a horse, one a dappled-gray and the other white with a brown mane and tail. Bringing up the rear was a spindly legged young man with oddly styled red hair. He carried a spear and wore a knife on his belt, and was apparently the group's protection, though he didn't look like he'd last long against a bear cub, let alone a legion of Astranian soldiers.

When they were about to pass by, the dragon tamer stepped out into their path, his hand on the hilt of his sword as a warning. He hadn't bothered drawing it; three women, two horses, and two sickly-looking boys were of no threat to him, especially with Tachyon right there. Jinlon probably could have taken them out with his walking stick.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" He asked, getting straight to the point. The boy and the woman in front jumped back, startled.

"Who-who are we? We're uh…uh…" The boy stuttered.

"We're refugees from Astrania," the youngest of the three women answered, stepping forward.

Mizar's eyes narrowed. "Astrania?"

"Yes!" the red-haired boy spoke up. "Kylie and Marya were Emperor Domitian's slaves, I was one of his soldiers, and-" The soldier was cut off by a sword being pointed at his chest. _Wow,_ Vector thought. _He can draw faster than Shark could._

"You are an Astranian soldier? What are you doing here, hoping to spy on us and gain information on the rebellion? Planning to fool us with some sob story?"

"What? No, we-"

"Good swordsman," the thin woman interrupted, "I am Empress Vivian of the old Imperial Council. We have come here in peace. Please, take us to your leader and let us explain."

 _I am the leader,_ Mizar almost snapped, but he held back. Dumon was technically the leader of the rebellion, and if they were spies, they shouldn't be able to get such information out of him so easily. "This way," he said shortly, instead. Making sure they walked in front of him, at sword point, Mizar led his captives to the secret entrance to the rebel's caves. None of these people were ever leaving again if they were found to be loyal to Domitian, so there was no danger in them seeing it. Observing the group, he saw that none of them were completely at ease, but the orange haired boy appeared to be the most nervous. _Wonder what's eating him,_ Mizar thought.

The central cavern of the caves that the rebels lived in served multiple purposes, one of them being a council meeting chamber. Representatives from each country- including Dumon, Mizar, Alito, and Girag- made up the council members and sat at the front, while everyone else who wasn't too busy to do so sat in the back. The suspicious travelers stood in the middle, glancing around themselves warily. They were effectively boxed in. Their horses had been taken from them; no doubt they would prove useful to the rebels even if their previous owners turned out to be treacherous. Marya tried to remain calm. _It's alright,_ she told herself. _You have nothing to hide and nothing to fear._

The blonde one who had brought them in went to stand with the other leaders (at least she assumed they were the leaders; several of them seemed awfully young) and whispered into the ear of a short boy with gray hair. After listening for a bit, the boy nodded and then held up his hand for silence.

"The five travelers you see before you claim to be Astranians, one of them a soldier who served out enemy Emperor Domitian. Considering the circumstances, we must listen to their story and decide whether or not we believe it to be truthful. The speaker sat down and gestured to the group. "You may begin."

Marya spoke first. "First of all, although we have journeyed from Astranian, not all of us are native to it. I am from Gelben, one of the islands of the United Lands of the Pacific Ocean."

"Gelben? Can you prove this?" The oldest member of the Council, an elderly woman, asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"I most certainly can," Marya said in perfect Salkie, her Gelbish accent clearly heard. Murmurs of recognition went through the crowd, and the woman sat back, satisfied. "Also," Marya continued, "Kylie is not a Barian. She is a Heartlander, who, like me, was captured by Emperor Domitian and forced into slavery by him. Weasel may be one of his soldiers, but only because he had no other way to earn money, and he has never fought in any of Domitian's conquests. I don't know whether or not your blonde friend told you, but this woman here," she said, indicating Vivian, "Is the woman elected to the Imperial Council by the Astranian people: Empress Vivian."

Gasps went through the crowd as they realized none other than their enemy's wife was standing before them. Most of the women reacted with pity; the men reacted with anger. Despite her frail and fragile appearance, Empress Vivian's spirit was strong, and she responded in a loud, clear voice, "I was elected to the Imperial Council by my people because they believed that I would do my best to uphold their interests. Even though I have been officially stripped of my position, I want to hold true to my people's belief that I can help them. I am here to help you stop my husband. You do not have to accept me, but know that is my only aim in coming here, and the same is true for my son, Vector."

The room exploded. The rebels were reluctant to accept Vivian, and she shared no blood with their enemy, but her son- _his_ son- was an entirely different matter. How were they to know whether or not he shared the same bloodlust as his father, that he had no desire to conquer and destroy?

"Please!" Vector cried, struggling to be heard above the uproar, "Please, just listen to what I have to say!"

"Let him speak!" Dumon thundered. He didn't raise his voice like that often, and the room quickly quieting. Vector looked surprised.

"Uh…thanks. Listen, I've seen what my Father's cruelty can do. I had a friend back…back home who, like Marya, had been slave in the fields. When I first saw him in the dungeons, he was thin and pale, suffering from dehydration and heatstroke. After getting to know him, I used my position as Crown Prince to bring him into the palace. I thought that being taken out of the fields and becoming the Prince's personal companion, with better food, clothes, and a nice bed, would be the best thing to ever happen to him." The Prince smiled sadly. "He showed me how wrong I was."

Vector swallowed the lump in his throat that came from thinking about Shark and forced himself to continue. "We became good friends, but although he knew who I was from the beginning, he never told me who he was really was." He took a deep breath. "While eavesdropping on my father, I discovered that my friend Shark was actually Emperor Nash of the United Lands."

There was a wave of shock that rolled through the crowd, and soon everyone was talking at once. "Nash is alive?" The gray-haired leader practically pounced on Vector. "Where is he? Why isn't he with you? How long was he Domitian's slave? What about his sisters? Where-"

"QUIET!" One of the leaders, an intimidating figure with a green mohawk, yelled. "Dumon, I understand your excitement, but how do we know we're being told the truth? How do we know these strangers aren't lying to us?"

Subdued, Dumon stepped back from Vector. "Girag's right," he said. "Do you have any proof that you knew Nash?"

"Just this," Vector replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single platinum ring. Dumon's eyes widened.

"Nash's ring!" Even after all this time, the knight still remembered the ring that his friend had worn so proudly.

"Not quite," Vector told him. "This is a carefully made copy, created to fool Sha-Nash." The Astranian Prince did his best to explain what had led up to his fleeing his own palace. "From what my father said to Heartland, I'm sure that Nash's sisters- Marin and Iris- are alive. But I don't know where they are, and I'm not sure where Shark is either."

"Do you know the name of the slaver that bought him?" Dumon asked hopefully.

Vector was about to answer in the negative, but his mother spoke up first. "Chironex," she said. "A decedent of the Jelly Fish Clan." Vector stared. How did his mother _learn_ this stuff?

"It is almost too much to believe," the elderly woman next to Alito said. "I never thought he would last that long. He was so young…"

"What are you saying, Phelika? " Alito asked his neighbor, confused.

"Shortly after Domitian took over, he called the governors of the four islands together, to force us to accept his rule. He had Prince Nash with him, on…on a leash. He couldn't have been more than ten. He was probably younger." Phelika closed her eyes, gripping her chair tightly. "He'd obviously been starved, he was so thin…" She opened her eyes and looked at Dumon. "If he is still alive, we must do our best to recover him. He is my true King; I, at least, owe it to him."

Dumon nodded. "We will bring Nash, Marin, and Iris back home and we will restore them to their thrones. There is no other conceivable course of action." _Don't worry, my friends. I'm coming for you._

**Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Princess Marin receives the most horrifying news of her young life.**


	34. Murderess!

"Honestly, Quattro, I'm _fine_. You don't have to hover over me."

"I don't want you to end up back in bed again, Rio."

"Are you _still_ talking about that? The fire was a year ago; you can't even see the damage that was done to the palace anymore. Well, maybe a little bit, but things are pretty much back to normal."

"I know. But still, I don't like it when you're bed ridden." A couple of days earlier, Rio had fallen and sprained her ankle, and had had to spend the last few days in bed with an ice pack on it. Quattro had fawned over her, which was both sweet and annoying to the Barian Princess. She knew he had feelings for her- they had only become more obvious in the months since the fire- but she also knew that a relationship between the two of them was impossible.

Quattro had no idea why Rio was against the idea of the two of them being more than friends. At times, when they were together, it was as if nothing could stand between them, and he could see in her eyes that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. But those feelings would always disappear from the surface, and he was kept guessing. The only reason he had come up with was that she was afraid of complications because he was a prince and she was, technically, a slave. So, he had decided to lavish as much attention as possible on her, to let her know that he didn't care about the social problems. He loved her, and he wanted her to be comfortable enough to love him back.

The way her sister and the Arclightian Prince behaved towards each other was not lost on Iris Kastle. As she watched her sister lean on the young man's arm for support as he assisted her to the garden pavilion- where the royal family and the sisters would be having tea that afternoon- her heart soared into the heavens. Rio would be so happy if she would just _let_ herself be. Quickly Iris brought her thoughts into check. Rio had explained to her over and over again that they didn't belong here, but it was harder for the little girl to grasp than it was for her sister. Arclight and their ways were all that Iris had really known. She knew all about Baria and the United Lands, but she didn't really _know_ them. Not the way Rio did. But Iris wouldn't try to talk her sister into marrying Quattro and staying in Arclight forever. Somehow she knew that the idea would be too bittersweet for her sibling.

Quattro and Rio reached the table and sat down, Quattro pulling Rio's chair out for her before taking his own place. "Thank you," Rio told him as she sat gracefully. Iris had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. _To think, the first time they were at a tea table together,_ she _was serving_ him.

"It is good to see you back on your feet, Rio. My boys haven't been as merry without you to continually talk to."

"It is good to be back, King Byron," Rio answered him. "I hate being still for too long." Iris sat quietly and sipped her tea as Rio chatted with Quattro and his father. Trey, too, was quiet, observing the exchange with interest. Quinton and Kari weren't with them; they were in the library pouring over books together. It was their favorite pastime. They would probably have their tea privately later.

Quattro must have said something funny, because Rio burst out into peals of laughter. She quickly tried to quiet down, slightly embarrassed, especially when she saw a rather flabbergasted male servant approaching.

"Um…your Majesty, there is a gentleman downstairs with a request for a private audience with Miss Rio Kastle. I told him that you were having tea, but he was insistent that I deliver his request."

"A gentleman? To see me?" Rio was surprised.

"Yes. He is waiting in the foyer. Shall I send him away and tell him to come back at another time?"

"No, that's alright," Rio said, half-rising. She was curious about this visitor. "I'll go and talk to him."

Quattro jumped up. "Do you want me to walk down with you?" He asked.

"No, thank you; I'm quite alright. I can make it downstairs by myself."

"But shouldn't you take someone with you anyway?" Byron asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "I don't exactly like the idea of leaving you alone with a strange man."

"Don't worry, Vetrix," Rio told him, using the Barian name she had given him. "I can take care of myself." She turned and walked away, with the man servant accompanying her. Of course, Rio knew the way to the foyer, but it was the proper thing to do, when a servant came to fetch you. He opened the door for her and stepped aside to allow her to enter, before closing it behind her and leaving.

The foyer was dark- it was too warm to light a fire in it today. At first glance, the large hall appeared empty, but as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she made out the figure of a man, standing in a dark corner with his back to her.

"Oh, hello," she said when she saw him. "I'm Rio Kastle. I believe you asked to see me?"

"Now, now, your highness," the man said in a smooth, oily voice. "There is no need to use the language of foreigners when we both speak your native tongue." Rio froze. That voice- she recognized it, and it was speaking perfect Barian. The creep turned to face her, and she met the eyes of…

"Heartland!"

"So you do recognize me, Princess Marin."

"It's hard to forget a smell like yours," Marin answered in Barian. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"Merely to tell you a story, Princess," Heartland said. "One you know some of, actually. Once there was a pair of twins who cared about each other very much. One night, their home was attacked and they were forced to run away. To protect his sister, the brother ran the other way and diverted their pursuers, but he was caught. He spent five rains slaving for the man who had murdered his father and taken everything from him. He trusted his sister to come back and rescue him, but she didn't come. You see, she had been adopted by a wealthy and had fine clothes and all that she could eat. Why should she give up her luxurious and opulent life to go running back into dangerous enemy territory?"

Rio stared at her enemy in shock. "I was going to come back, really; I was! I just never got the chance."

"You never got the chance." The man rolled his eyes. "Believe that if you want. It's just a pity you didn't get your chance before it was too late."

"Too late? What do you mean?"

"Your brother was very amusing to torment- for a while. But then Emperor Domitian got tired of him. You should have heard your beloved twin's screams. No one survives one hundred lashes on the bare back, princess."

"No!" Rio cried. "No! You're lying!"

"Oh, but I'm not. I have proof." He reached into his coat pocket, torturously taking his time, and produced something small and shiny.

Rio could feel herself trembling. In the fiend's palm was a platinum ring, identical to her own. He dropped it into her shaking hand, and she sank to her knees, cradling all that was left of her beloved brother to her chest.

"Crown Prince Nash truly loved you, his sister." The man sneered. "He died a horrible death for you. It's too bad you weren't willing to do the same for him."

"NO!" Marin screamed. "NO! NO! NO!" She clutched her brother's ring to her chest and sobbed. "It can't be! It can't be! I'm sorry, brother, I'm so sorry."

There were running footsteps outside the door, and Heartland quickly retrieved his hat and cane from where he had laid them down and slipped out. Lost in grief, Rio didn't notice him leaving, and she didn't take any heed of the worried people that flooded into the room right after he was gone.

Iris stared at her sister in stupefied horror. Rio Kastle looked like she had gone mad. She clawed her face and hair, trying desperately to ease the pain, or at least make it hurt just as much outside as it did inside. She ripped her sleeves clean off and tore at her bodice, while at the same time crawling over to the cold fireplace. She grabbed up handfuls of ashes and poured them over her head, pulling at her hair as she did so. Then she wailed, a high pitch, chilling sound, and began to cry out in Salkie.

"Deartháir! Deartháir! Mharaigh mé air! Mharaigh mé mo dheartháir féin! Bhfuil sé marbh! Marbh ag mo lámh! Ag mo lámh féin! Bhfuil sé marbh! Bhfuil sé marbh! Mharaigh mé air! Deartháir!"

Quattro was terrified. He reached for his friend, but she lashed out at him, scratching him in the process. King Byron pulled his two sons away from the apparently crazy girl. "Iris! What's wrong with her? What is she saying?"

"She- she keeps saying that he's dead, and that…and that she killed him."

"Who?" Trey asked, wide-eyed. "Who's dead?"

Iris couldn't tear her eyes away from her sister's face. The ash had mixed with her tears, staining her face black. "Deartháir," she whispered. "Brother."

"But you don't have a brother," Trey said, confused.

"We…we did," Iris choked out. "Before…" She couldn't go on. She hadn't known Nash very well; she'd been so young when she'd last seen him, but she loved him because he was her brother, and now she would never really get to know what he was like. "She's…she's mourning in the traditional Barian way," Iris explained when she found her voice. She described it to me once, the mourning that takes place before a burial. But I never imagined-" She buried her face in her hands.

The Arclight King stared at the hysterical girl on the floor before him. Her clothes were now filthy and ruined, torn a little too much in some places. Trey had evidently noticed this, based on how he was blushing. "Michael, run and get a doctor. Tell him we need something to put Rio to sleep. She's going to hurt herself if she keeps this up." As if to prove his point, Rio raked her nails across her now bare shoulder and blood spurted forth.

Quattro pressed his hand to the cheek that Rio had scratched and watched his friend's torment. He wanted so much to help her, but he had no idea how to do it. Iris, too, was at a loss as to what to do. As she studied her sister, her eyes were drawn to something small gleaming among the scattered ashes. She bent down and picked it up. It was Rio's platinum ring, the one she always wore. She must have lost it somehow, glancing down at her sister's right hand, Iris was surprised to see that there was already a ring on her Marin's finger. Then where had this one come from? She suddenly felt cold. _It must be Nash's,_ she realized. _But he and Marin promised never to take them off…so he must really be dead._

Trey quickly came back with Dr. McNeil, who took one look at Rio and quickly prepared a sedative. "I don't want to give her an injection," he said. "With all her thrashing about, the needle could break and get stuck inside her. You'll have to hold her down while I get this into her mouth."

It took a while for them to hold Rio still and get her mouth open for the doctor, since she was beyond all reason by this point. Cupping her head, Dr. McNeil managed to pour the sedative down Rio's throat. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then Rio's muscles began to relax and the sobbing subsided, and soon she was asleep.

Byron sent Trey to get some female servants to take Rio to her room, while Dr. McNeil turned his attention to Quattro's cheek. Iris knelt down next to her unconscious sister and took her hand in her own. _Oh, Marin,_ she thought despairingly, _What are we going to do now?_

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Marin honors the memory of her older brother as best she can.**


	35. The Funeral

Marin sat on her bed, fingers tracing the rim of her dead brother's ring. It was all she had left of him now. _All she had left._ She hadn't been with him as his life had drained away from him- as he writhed in pain from the cruel lash. She hadn't gone back for him. Heartland was right. It was all her fault.

Iris, as well as the Arclights, had no clue on how to help the grieving invalid. She hadn't been out of her room since being carried there by Dr. McNeil. Quattro wished there was _something_ he could do. He and Iris had explained about Rio's twin brother, and how Quattro had known about him for several years, because Rio had slipped up and mentioned him. He had informed his father and brothers how Rio had told him that her brother had been sold to someone else and they hadn't heard from him since. Iris had given him an odd look at that, but she assumed she was just surprised that Rio had gone into such detail about an obviously painful subject.

Apart from that, however, there was nothing to do but wait. And Quattro hated waiting. In fact, he didn't intend to- beyond a couple of days- which was why he was heading to her room at this very moment. It had been almost a week, and he was determined to help Rio _somehow,_ even if all she did was release her pain by yelling at him in a language he couldn't understand.

Rio barely stirred at the first knock on her door, but it soon became loud and insistent enough to pull her out of her stupor. "Who is it?" she asked hoarsely.

"It's Quattro. Can I come in?"

"I…" Rio didn't know what to say, and she honestly didn't care. After a moment of silence, the door opened and he came in anyway, being careful to shut the door behind him.

"Oh, Rio!" He cried when he saw the state she was in. Her face was drawn and pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red. There were dark circles under her eyes as well. Quattro dragged a chair over to the best and sat down next to her. "Rio, please, let me help. I can't stand seeing you like this. None of us can," he added for good measure.

"There's nothing you can do, Quattro."

"Just let me try! Please, Rio, let me try." She didn't respond to his plea, continuing to trace the ring she held in her hand.

"Rio, I can't begin to imagine what you're going through. When I lost my mother, it hurt. It hurt for a long time. I'm sorry about your brother. I'm sorry I never got to meet him. Surely…" He was suddenly struck with inspiration. "Surely there must be something we can do to honor his memory. If he had died in your home country, how would you have conducted the funeral?"

At first, Rio didn't answer, and Quattro began to wonder if she'd heard him at all. Then, so softly he almost missed it, she whispered, "Flowers."

"Flowers?"

"White funeral flowers. We'd start at…at my home, and we'd carry him to the sea from there. He'd be dressed in his best clothes, carried on a litter draped in black. Everyone in the village would come out to watch his final passing, and they would drop white funeral flowers on him, until only his face showed. People would join us on our march, and sing a mournful, wordless song to break the silence. Nothing is worse than a silent funeral." She paused, as if trying hard to remember what would happen next. It had been many years, after all, since she'd been in Baria, and funerals hadn't exactly been a daily occurrence.

"When we'd reach the sea," she continued, "He would be put in a boat, covered in black, and filled with more funeral flowers for a soft bed. Only when he was about to be pushed off would Iris and I put our flowers in. It would be our right as his closest relatives. There's be a small hole in the boat, covered by the black drapery, to allow water in. My brother's body would sink beneath the waves, at dawn, and that would be the greatest final honor we could give to him."

For the first time, she stopped tracing the ring she held and closed her fist over it. She looked up, her rose-colored eyes meeting his magenta ones. "But I can't even give him that. I don't even have his body. Who knows what they…what they…" Her voice broke, and she couldn't go on.

"Rio," Quattro had no words to ease his friend's pain, so he simply held her and allowed her to cry into his chest. They sat like that for a long time. All thoughts of what was or was not proper for the Crown Prince of Arclight had left Quattro when he had first started to fall for Rio, and if anyone saw him holding her, on her bed in her room, he wouldn't have cared.

"They can't take all of your brother away from you, Rio," he said when her sobbing at finally subsided. "You still have your memories of him. You'll always remember him, and how deeply he cared for you…and how deeply you still care for him. Let's give him the best funeral we can, if not to honor him, than to honor his memory."

King Byron had grown fond of Rio and Iris Kastle, so when his son presented the idea to him, he agreed almost immediately. "Though I must add," he said thoughtfully, "I've never heard of such proceedings in honoring the dead." Quattro himself thought it was a little strange, and so did everyone else who decided to join in, but they were all fond of Rio, and so were willing to do something a little odd for her.

Two weeks after the news of Nash's death had reached her ears, Princess Marin rose early, before sunrise, and dressed all in black, including a shawl to cover her hair. It would not do to let your hair blow free on a day of mourning. Iris donned similar attire, and together, they went down to the palace gates. The litter had been prepared and was waiting there, bearing only a simple plaque with two words on it: _Nash_ and _Deartháir_ , or _brother._ Slowly, the palace courtyard filled up with the royal family and the servants, each of them coming to pay their respects and drop flowers on the funeral litter of a boy they'd never known. They couldn't wake up the entire city at this hour, King Byron had said, so they'd simply cover the litter with flowers first instead of along the way. The flowers were white lilies, the closet thing Marin had been able to find to Barian funeral flowers.

When everyone was present, the solemn march began. Four men carried Nash's litter, and Marin and Iris walked on either side of it. About halfway through the march, Iris began to sing, a hollow, empty melody of sorrow and longing. Iris had asked to do this, for the brother she had barely known. Marin joined in with her after a while, but her tune was more of a mournful wail. The combined sounds were haunting and sent shivers down the spines of all who heard. Trey was sure the temperature had dropped and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

They reached a small dock near the beach where Quattro and Rio had spent so many happy afternoons, where a small rowboat was waiting, its oars missing. It was draped in black and covered with white lilies, just as Marin had described. The plaque was lowered slowly into the vessel, and everyone stood back at a respectful distance as the deceased's sisters came forward for their final farewells.

"Goodbye, brother," Iris whispered in Salkie. "I wish I could know more about you, but I'll never forget what I do remember- and that you gave up everything to protect me." She laid her lily gently down among the others and withdrew, leaving Marin alone.

The Barian Princess sank to her knees, salty tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Nash. I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you. I hope you'll be able to forgive me someday. I know I'll never be able to forgive myself." She laid her flower- the last one- next to her brother's plaque, and slowly began untying the knot that kept the boat secured to the dock. Once free, the current slowly pulled the boat out to sea. At first, the water leaked in slowly, but soon it was pouring in, and the boa rapidly sank from sight, leaving only a pool of floating lilies to show that it had ever been there. The sun was just coming over the horizon.

The people on the dock stood morbidly still for another few minutes, unable to tear themselves away. None of them would have guessed that the boy whose death they had just mourned was on a ship in those very same waters, caught in a whirlpool of suffering.

 **Next time on** _ **A Tale of Two Slaves:**_ **Chironex is a bitter man with a deep hatred inside him, and he's started taking it out on one slave in particular.**


	36. Life Under Chironex

The slave let out a small gasp as his palms and knees hit the rough deck of the ship. "Fifteen lashes," his master ordered from behind him. "That'll teach him to spill my breakfast all over my cabin." The slave wanted to protest that if he hadn't been so tired, he wouldn't have stumbled, and he wouldn't have spilled anything, but the punishment for denying guilt was far worse than the one for mere clumsiness.

Chironex watched as his favorite slave to torment was secured to the mast and the flogging began. _Where is the mighty Shark Clan now?_ He thought gleefully. Long before the five islands of the United Lands had been, well, united; they had been inhabited by two clans- the Jelly Fish Clan and the Shark Clan. They had fought with each other for many, many seasons; until the Shark Clan had finally conquered all the islands. Over time, as they lived together, the differences between the two groups had dissipated, and left in their place was one nation.

However, there were some who still remembered the wars, and who hated the Shark Clan for their dominance. The royal family of the United Lands was descended from the leader of the Shark Clan, and some descendants of the Jelly Fish Clan hated them for it. Chironex was one of these, and since he knew his slave's true identity, he took great delight in watching him suffer. It hadn't been easy to break the boy- true, he was already apathetic towards life and no longer rebelled openly- but he didn't cower in fear either. Chironex had been determined to change that, and he had succeeded.

Of course, the first step had been to give Shark a reason to fear him. So, Chironex had sent in a slave that was completely loyal to him to have a little talk with his newest acquisition. Shark had withdrawn into himself and didn't open up to Chironex's minion, but dirt didn't have to talk to allow seeds to take root in it.

"The Master told me about your sisters, boy," The spy had said. "His friend Lord Heartland told me all about it. It's a real shame. What are you going to do?"

"I deserve to die," Shark had whispered.

"Perhaps. Though if you ask my opinion, the punishment would be much worse." Shark had lifted his chin slightly at that, as if to ask what the other slave meant. "If I had sisters, and they had died the way yours did, I would think I deserved to suffer for the rest of my life. I would think that a life as a slave was what I was due for my failure. But of course, that's just me. I come from a line of excessively honorable people, you see. For us, dying would be the cowards way out. But like I said, that's just my opinion."

Chironex had given Shark a little time to think this over, and in the meantime had started breaking him. _Really_ breaking him. The boy was up before the sun rose and after it went down. He was worked hard, until his hands were raw and bloody from the labor. There was plenty of work to be done on a ship, and Chironex's hired goons made sure the slaves did it thoroughly and efficiently. Beatings became a daily occurrence, some delivered by Chironex himself in Shark's case. Food was kept at the barest minimum. Starvation, back-breaking work, and constant pain was the way to keep a slave in their place.

Of course, that wasn't all there was to it. Chironex also took pains to strip his slave of his identity. "What's your name?" Chironex would demand every night.

"Shark," the slave had answered the first time.

"Wrong!" Chironex had given him five lashes and sent him to bed without supper. The next night, he had asked the same question, and this time, after some hesitation, the slave had answered,

"Shark, Master?"

"Wrong!" Chironex dealt out the same punishment that night, and once again his slave went to bed hungry. The third night, the answer has been,

"I don't know, Master,"

"That's right, slave," Chironex had told him. "You have no name, because you are nothing. You are called whatever I choose to address you as. Now, get to bed!" The slave hadn't gotten any food that night either, but neither had he received a beating. On the fourth night, the slave had given the correct answer and been rewarded with stale bread and water. Every night following, the slave repeated the answer and received the same response.

After about a moon had passes, Chironex had performed a test. "Shark!" He had yelled across the deck. "Shark, come here!" The slave had come running, and received twenty lashes for it. Ten sunrises later, Chironex had once again called him by the old nickname, and the boy had slowly started towards him, evidently hesitating. Chironex had swooped down on him and given him ten lashes. Ten sunrises later, the test had been conducted for the third time. This time, the slave didn't even look up. He was rewarded by being allowed some extra sleep that night.

Step three was the trickiest part. He had to make his slave forget about his sisters and only remember that his purpose was to serve his masters. One night, after the boy had answered "Whatever you wish it to be, Master," and was waiting for his meal, when his master pulled down the whip on his cabin wall. The slave tensed visibly, trembling.

"I have some more questions for you tonight, slave," his master told him. "Number one: What are you?"

"A slave, Master," was the immediate response. Chironex nodded in satisfaction, not that the slave could see. He didn't dare raise his eyes to look at his owner. It was a lesson he had learned quickly on the slave ship.

"Very good. Now, what is your reason for living?"

There had been a moment of silence, and then the slave had answered, as Chironex had hoped he would, by saying, "To pay for my crimes against my sisters, Master."

"NO!" Chironex had beaten the boy savagely until his knees gave way and he slumped to the floor. Grabbing him by the hair, his master had put his mouth next to his ear and whispered, "You have no sisters. Your only reason for existing is to serve the one who owns you." With a savage kick to the ribs, Chironex had sent his slave to bed without anything to eat.

It had taken considerable time to drive thoughts of his sisters from his mind, but Chironex had done it. After being condition, weakened, and flogged, the apathetic boy with a shred of pride left was gone. In his place was a slave, in mind and body. Every night, as Chironex would grill him with questions, the answers were whispered with a tremor of fear, and they were always the same.

"What is your name?"

"Whatever you wish it to be, Master."

"What are you?"

"A slave, Master."

"What is your reason for existing?"

"To serve my masters, Master."

"Does anyone in the world care about, ever have cared, or ever will care about your thoughts and feelings?"

"No, Master."

"Why not?"

"I am just a piece of property, Master; my thoughts and feelings don't matter."

"That's right. Do any of your masters care about you?"

"Yes Master?"

"Why?"

"Because I am there property and am worth money to them."

"Excellent, slave. You got them all right. Here's your bread and water; now get out of my sight."

"Yes, Master." The slave had learned to bury his emotions and memories deep within himself. It was safer that way. He would be punished for bringing them up, and the deeper they were buried, the harder it would be to recall them. He couldn't remember why anymore, but he knew that death was not an option for him. He deserved to suffer. So, he took each day as it came and did his best to please his master. ( _Days,_ he had learned, were what Heartlanders called sun cycles. Several of Chironex's men were native to Heartland, and he learned a few things about their destination from them, because he could understand their language. How or when he had learned it, though, was something he had forgotten).

He had a funny feeling, whenever someone mentioned the name _Heartland._ As if it should mean something to him. But nothing really meant anything to the slave anymore, except his master's wishes, the cruel lash, and his body's need for food, water, sleep, and relief from the pain. Despite his best efforts, he was still beaten on occasion, like right now.

The slave braced himself for the tenth blow, but he couldn't stop his body from jerking or the cry of pain from escaping his lips. "Master, please," he whimpered. His master liked to hear him beg; he would sometimes shorten a punishment if he did so. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. Five more lashes came before he was released from the mast. He fell to the deck, unable to support himself.

"Get up, slave," his master ordered him, kicking him in the side. "You have to clean up that mess you left in my cabin."

The slave tried to force himself to his feet, but he was in too much pain to do so, so he settled for crawling back to his master's cabin. As he picked up the broken dishes and mopped up the spilled coffee, a few hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He brushed them away angrily. He deserved every lash he had received. He deserved this life of misery and servitude.

The slave knew that if he thought hard enough, he might be able to remember the horrible thing he had done that had condemned him to this existence, but he didn't dare. He feared his master and the whip, and if he took another beating so soon, it could possibly kill him. And he didn't get to die yet. Who had told him that? He couldn't remember.

Things had never looked so dark and full of despair for the royal siblings before, but not all was yet done. Not all was yet said. Even the craftiest plans can go awry, and Domitian and Heartland couldn't possibly have countered what would happen to Emperor Nash when Chironex's ship reached the Southern Isles.

 **The End**


	37. Preview of Part 4: Life

_The slave knew that they were bidding for him. He was going to get a new master. He really hoped they would hurry up and get on with it._

 _His stomach was clenched with hunger and he bit his lip to stop himself from reacting to it. His feet were killing him from standing still for so long, and his neck ached from looking down, not to mention the chain attached to the iron collar around his neck was heavy and weighed him down. He didn't dare budge or lift his head, though. He knew the punishment for that._

 _His wrists were shackled together, the hard iron rubbing them raw, and the chain that hung from his collar was attached to the chain that connected the manacles. He really,_ really _hoped the bidding would be over soon. Maybe his new master would take pity on him and let him sit down, or even take the chains off._

" _100 gold pieces!" A bidder called out. The crowd went silent. The bid was high- extremely high- which was what had caught their attention, but the slave had noticed something else. The voice that had made the bid…it was young, and innocent, and…full of energy. The slave had never known one person could have so much enthusiasm._

 _Despite knowing the punishment for looking his betters in the eye, the slave couldn't help himself. He glanced up, and was startled by the red eyes, brimming with life, that were looking straight at him._


End file.
